Christmas Shopping
by Arjen
Summary: BtVS, Noir. Black Sunrise series, part 4. The Christmas break has started, and while Dawn goes to LA to do some shopping things keep happening in Sunnydale as well.
1. Chapter 1

**Title: Christmas Shopping**  
**Author: Arjen**  
**Length: About 41.000 words**  
**Summary: The Christmas break has started, and while Dawn goes to LA to do some shopping things keep happening in Sunnydale as well.  
Pairings: Nothing that isn't canon.**  
**Rating: PG-13.  
Crossover: Noir  
Chronology:  
Black Sunrise  
The Day After  
Dark, Darker, ...  
Unforeseen Consequences: Heart of Darkness  
Christmas Shopping**  
**Disclaimer: All characters and other recognizable things are property of Mutant Enemy, ADV films and whoever else wants to lay claim to them. Everything that I thought up is made using their property so I can't really claim that either.**  
**Feedback: Preferably constructive criticism, tell me what I've done right and wrong and I'll be happy. Flames I consider as written by five years old who according to that ridiculous rating system aren't allowed to read this.**

**I want to thank Era for his hard work, acting as my beta. Without him this story wouldn't have been nearly as good as it is now.**

**Background: Dawn was created early and the monks weren't stupid enough to lead Glory directly to her. During Halloween '97 she was possessed by Kirika from Noir. Afterwards she retained the memories of this assassin and had gained knowledge of the supernatural. All this came at a price though, as she lacks the assassin's control, and the only thing keeping her sane is the watch that came with the outfit. A watch that had been turned real during a strange dream.**

**XXX indicates a change of POV**

**Chapter 1**

Freedom. Finally, she could enjoy some freedom. No mother demanding that she followed the rules of her grounding, no teachers to tell her she couldn't leave until her detention was finished, nothing but blessed freedom.

Dawn smiled as she shifted a little in her seat; she had managed to convince everyone that it would be best if she went to see her father during the first couple of days of Christmas break. Hah, she had even managed to arrange it so that she could leave immediately after her last class. No detention on the last day of the year for her. Of course, the groveling that she'd needed to do wasn't something she liked, but, when it was necessary, she was more than capable of acting like the innocent little girl people thought she was.

Oh yes, she had been the perfect student during the past month, no fights, paying attention in class, listening to the teachers, everything. Hell, she even did her homework on time. As a consequence her grades had gone up, and she was pretty sure that, if it hadn't been for the fact that the bullies in the school still walked clear of her, the teachers would have started doubting the unfortunate incident had actually taken place.

Only her mother couldn't be fooled by her behavior, except during that brief time with Ted. Thinking about that robot put a damper on her mood though. Sure, the guy had seemed nice at first, and as he had come into their lives so soon after the whole Teraka deal, it meant he was a useful distraction for Buffy. Add to that the fact that he'd managed to get her mother to ease up on the whole grounding thing, and it became obvious he had been very welcome.

Of course he had seemed far too intelligent for her taste. Not that she had something against intelligent people; she just couldn't use one as a father while she still lived at home. He had even been suspicious about how much she had known about computers! And that wasn't exactly that impressive, it wasn't as if she even had a clue about the conversations he had with Willow.

On the other hand, Dawn did know of herself that she was more than capable of hacking into some secure systems. After all, if you can find one of the best assassins in the world some normal hacking is barely a challenge. But that wasn't something other people were aware of.

Looking around the bus she noticed there wasn't anyone near her so she opened the window for some fresh air. Well, as fresh as the air could get on a highway. With the cold wind running through her hair she thought about the part of the whole robot thing. Those damn cookies and other foods of his had affected her.

She, the best assassin on this entire planet, had been beaten by a couple of drugged cookies and mini-pizzas. And because of that she had been so close to spilling her secrets to the creature. In fact, if Buffy had taken any longer in killing him everyone would have known what she was, what she'd done, and what she was still planning to do.

Dawn could just imagine how the conversation with her mother would have gone. 'Hi mom, I know I haven't told you this before, but I'm really an assassin. I've only killed two people so far—three if you count the little boy, and have only used a knife. But Mireille always said that's a little messy, so would you mind to go and buy a gun for me? I can pay for it, I took the money from one of my targets.' And then her mother would reply. 'Sure honey which kind do you want? Just remember you can't go out and kill anyone while you're still grounded.'

Oh yeah, that would have been a wonderful conversation, and for once she was really grateful for her sister's temper. When she had no longer been on a diet of Ted-specials Dawn had regained control of her own mind, or was it minds? Anyway, once that had happened she had almost wished that Buffy hadn't killed him, because that would mean she'd have the chance to do so. Not that she knew how to kill a robot using only a couple of knives, but the attempt sure would have felt good.

Of course, that entire situation had also proven to her how the others thought about killing humans. She was now certain that none of them, with the possible exception of Cordelia, would in any way react well to the fact that she was an assassin. But despite that, she still wished she had been home when the bastard had returned. He dared to threaten her family. And nobody who threatened those she cares about was allowed to live.

It took her a moment to identify the feeling, but the sudden pain came from her right hand. Lifting it up she was surprised to see her hand trying to crush the watch. Which reminded her of the other thing that had messed up her life these past weeks. It had to be magic**—**someone was using magic on her while she slept and she had no idea who it was.

She really wanted to find out who it was that sent her to those different worlds. Some of them she actually recognized—from TV or books and stuff like that—while others she had no idea about. But what those worlds were didn't matter.

The fact that someone was sending her there, for whatever reason, was what mattered. And nobody, nobody, used magic on her without permission, not even if it meant she now had a fully functioning watch. Remembering the watch brought back the pain as well and she lessened her death grip on it. But even putting the watch back in her packet didn't lessen the memories of those strange worlds.

She had no idea what to do about the dreams, she couldn't tell anyone without having to spill about who she was as well. But they came almost every night now, and they were far too real for her taste. After all, Dawn reasoned, usually when dreams end you don't wake up carrying the scars of whatever fight you've been dreaming about. Especially not when the cursed dream took place in the future. What use could scars have if they belonged to fights that happen twenty years after she woke up? It was just too complicated for her.

Taking a swig from her water bottle she kept the cool liquid in her mouth for a moment before swallowing. On the other hand, some of those dreams were very nice. She couldn't contain the smile that crept up her face as she remembered some of them. The only ones she was certain were magically induced were those that left evidence, but she hoped that some of the others were real as well. At least she considered them to be since they were nice. Very nice.

Her favorite dream involved Xander, naturally, and had nothing to do with any shooting, stabbing or other fighting. It was a beautiful dream of their wedding. She could remember walking up the aisle to join her future husband at the altar. And there was nobody who tried to ruin that perfect moment, nobody who wanted to kill either of them. Just them, the priest and all the wedding guests. She sighed in happiness as she thought about it. That was exactly the way she would want her wedding to be.

Calm where it came to being attacked, but busy where it came to partying. After all, after the wedding itself there was the usual party where everyone would congratulate them and stuff. And after that... Even with the way her cheeks felt as if they were on fire, Dawn could feel the smile on her face widening as she was thinking about the wedding night that had come next in the dream. A wedding night that had shown her more than any sex-ed class would ever be able to.

Now that had been something she really wanted to do again. The smile slipped a little as she looked in the barely reflecting glass next to her. Well, she'd do it again once she'd grown up a little. She might be able kill people in her current young body, but certain other activities just weren't really possible with the body of a twelve-year-old.

. . . .

"Daddy!" She shouted as she exited the bus and spotted her father. Dawn ignored the looks of her fellow passengers—who had also bugged her about the open window, as if it was actually possible for it to be cold in California—and ran to him.

"Dawn. It's good to see you." If she hadn't been able to read his body language she might have actually believed him. But, while hugging her father in something close to despair, she finally realized that the gap between them had just grown too large. They had barely spoken since she had moved to Sunnydale and it was obvious her father was no longer used to having a little kid around.

Whining about it wouldn't help though, so she just pretended not to notice. It wasn't as if she didn't pretend on a daily basis anyway. She was disappointed however, and for a moment she considered fleeing into the emotionless state, but, despite the security blanket it represented, she decided against it.

He might not know her as well as he once did but he would notice if she suddenly turned into a different person. And if he did he might actually tell her mother about it, which would bring all sort of badness down on her. She had ended the year with being grounded and she had no intention of starting the next in the same manner.

"I'm happy to be here too." And technically that wasn't a lie. The reason might not be that she once again had the chance to spend time with her father, but she was still happy to be in the City of Angels.

"Wonderful, have you got everything? Good, let's go then." And with that short statement her father started to lead her to where his car was. Walking a little behind him she studied the way his body moved—it was amazing how much people actually said without using their mouths. Her father wasn't happy, but that she part had already figured out. With an impending feeling of doom she started to realize however, that maybe it wasn't just because her arrival had messed up his plans.

He wasn't happy with her, whether it had to do with the scene at the bus stop, or if it was because of her grounding, she didn't know. But his unhappiness had to do with her. He might not be as important to her as he once was, but she wasn't looking forward to the lecture he was undoubtedly saving for when they weren't in public anymore.

Feeling the uncontrollable hatred starting to rise inside her, she quickly grabbed hold of the watch. Calming down wasn't that hard, but did make her realize that lacking emotions might be a good thing right now after all. Her father might notice there was something strange about her, but at least she wouldn't hurt him. And hurting members of her family would really be crossing the line. Wouldn't it? She shook the thought of, morbid thoughts like that weren't something she wanted to contemplate right now.

While her father loaded her bags into the car she stared at what little she could see of the city. She was here for one reason, and one reason only—to finally get her hands on a gun. Then she'd have a way to deal with people like Ethan in a way that wouldn't risk a repeat of how he had died. And she would have been able to deal with Ted as well. No matter how many redundant systems the robot had, some well-placed bullets in its brain would have taken care of it.

. . . .

"Dawn." Ah, immediately after getting into the car. She had hoped that he'd wait until they had arrived, but unfortunately the lecture was going to happen immediately. "I'm really disappointed in you."

Oh great, that was how he'd started before they sent Buffy to the nuthouse; she'd better not let anything slip about the supernatural, or she'd be visiting there as well. "Daddy?" If you've got nothing to lose, try the teary eyed and innocent, yet hurt, look.

"Don't try that Dawn, you know damn well what I'm talking about." Not fair! That look had worked all her life! "I understand that you probably look up to your sister, but there are some things that you don't need to copy from her."

This was getting better and better, now she was even being accused of trying to emulate Buffy! Didn't the man understand how only being the blonde's sister was enough to cripple her social life? If she'd actually try to be like her she wouldn't even have anything resembling a life. "But daddy, I'm not."

"You've been fighting at school, just like Buffy has been doing. Who knows when you'll start burning down buildings and using vampires as an excuse," her father sighed, probably in an attempt to stop himself from shouting, before he continued in a calmer tone of voice. "I don't want to hurt your feelings, you know I love both you and your sister, but I don't want to see you destroy your life the way she did."

"But daddy, I was only defending myself." Okay, she might have gotten carried away a little, but why wouldn't anyone ever believe that it hadn't been her fault?

"The boy had to go to the hospital, and what I was told about his wounds didn't sound like any self-defense I've ever heard of. You're lucky it was your mother who set your punishment, you wouldn't have gotten off that light with me."

Alright, that was it. He was starting to go too far, and unless she did something now he would undoubtedly keep harping on it until she'd lose her temper, and do something at least part of her would regret. "DADDY!" Dawn wailed, while allowing tears to stream down her cheeks. No man is able to withstand the tears of a twelve-year-old girl, especially when it's his own daughter.

"Oh shit," her father cursed under his breath while the fake tears continued to fall. "I knew I should've waited until we were home. No, I should've waited until tomorrow, or even Sunday."

She pretended not to have heard how he cursed himself, she was after all supposed to be immersed in her grief, but she couldn't just let it go either. "I'm already really sorry about what I did, and my punishment isn't light. Why do you have to make it even worse?"

Dawn noticed him hitting the steering wheel and couldn't stop a feeling of satisfaction. Hah! Feel the guilt, sucker! "I'm sorry honey, I didn't want to start your stay here like this, but I've had a bad day and..." She didn't even listen to the rest of the flimsy excuse, her mission had succeeded and she couldn't care less about the story he'd concoct to justify his behavior.

While the rest of the trip passed in near silence, her father broke it once, to tell her that he would have to work the next day, so she'd be alone. He hoped she didn't mind, as she probably already had plans to go shopping anyway, but there hadn't been anything he could do about it.

She didn't answer him, instead opting to just sniffle a little more, and enhance the guilt he was undoubtedly feeling, but she was actually happy about it. Tomorrow, this mask of emotions could be dropped, and could go out to find her own kind of people.

**XXX**

David "Dave" Boyd was a man with aspirations. Now, fourteen year old, he might still only be a pickpocket, but he was planning to move up in the world. He had spent the last couple of years getting to know everyone in LA, well, obviously not EVERYONE, but everyone who mattered.

He knew the best fences, he knew where to go for certain information, and he knew where you'd have to go to buy your stuff. And everyone knew Dave; they might not always have a high opinion of him, but he could live with that—as long as they knew who he was. Once he'd achieved the status that was rightfully his, they could always come to apologize.

Of course, so far nobody had actually come to him in order to use his knowledge, but he was certain that anytime now he would have his big break. Until then however, he was still on pickpocket duty. But a man's got to do, what a man's got to do.

Walking towards the nearest shopping district he did wish that he could have afforded a warmer jacket. It was getting a little on the chilly side when the wind came from the sea, so, stuffing his hands in his pockets, he hunched up a little. If only he'd spot a good mark soon he might be able to get out of here without wasting too much time in this blasted weather.

And then he saw her. He had no idea what a little girl like that would be doing around here, but he did have a good idea of where she came from. Fine looking clothes, attitude to match, and probably a lot of money. He shook his head, if you took into account her age, which couldn't be over twelve, thirteen at most, it really was taking candy from a baby. However, if she was foolish enough to come to his turf, instead of staying in her own neighborhood, he wouldn't pass up on the easy mark. Hah, even if he did she would get mugged within minutes by someone else, so he didn't even have to feel guilty about robbing a little kid.

He started following her, the current street just wouldn't do for what was needed. It wasn't crowded enough to get lost among the other people, but there were still too many people to be able to make a clear run for it. Sooner or later though, she'd make the mistake of walking into the wrong street and he'd have his chance. This was turning out to be a good day after all, an easy mark minutes after he started. Life, as they say, was good.

. . . .

What happened? Desperately trying to keep still, Dave tried to reconstruct the last couple of minutes before he found himself in his present position.

He had been following the mark, check. There was no sign he'd been spotted, check. Police hadn't been near them at all, check. The girl had turned into an empty street that would lead her straight to the turf of the Poison Blades, check.

He should've known that might lead to trouble, but he had been certain he'd be able to get her before she was noticed by any of the Blades. So he'd looked her over and spotted the slightly heavier part of her jacket, where she was probably carrying her wallet, check. The backpack was a possible target as well, but he wasn't sure if he should risk that there.

His mouth dry, but not in any hurry to swallow he remembered what happened next. He'd made his run—it would be a simple shove and run. Shove the little girl to the ground, gently of course, wouldn't want to hurt her, take her money, and run like hell. Nothing wrong so far. When he had been about to shove her though, the mark had suddenly turned around and, with a move he couldn't see, she had ensured that he'd been the one doing the falling. That's what had gone wrong. Unfortunately, looking at the emotionless eyes belonging to the little girl who was now holding a sharp knife to his throat, that hadn't been where it ended.

Strangely enough, the foremost thought in his mind didn't come from the part of him that was scared silly. No, the most important thing running through his mind was the desperate wish that nobody would ever find out about the fact that he'd been taken down by a little girl. No matter how good she might be, his reputation would never survive something like that. Well, it was more like he'd never even gain a reputation besides being the one that had been ambushed by a twelve year old girl. And no matter how much he wanted one, that was the wrong reputation.

"Hi, what's your name?" The chirpy sound didn't match the eyes at all, but he did recognize the command for what it was.

"D-david." No, only his mother called him that, before she died. And he wasn't at all happy with the shaky sound of his voice either, so he tried again. "I mean Dave. My name, that is. I'm Dave."

Better, but the nervousness was still far too present in his voice. The perky voice spoke up again though, while he couldn't take his eyes off hers. "Great, Dave it is. Now tell me Dave, were you really going to try to rob an innocent little girl?"

Innocent girl? Had she really managed to get that out of her mouth? There was probably only one way in which she was innocent, and that wasn't something he had any intention of finding out about. "Ehm, what would you do if I said yes?" See? He hadn't admitted anything while being threatened. He was the man!

The girl didn't reply though, and only pushed the cold metal of her knife a little deeper into the flesh of his throat. Okay, that had obviously been the wrong answer, but he wasn't sure which one he should give. Well, he figured she'd want to hear the truth, but if the truth ended up killing him he wouldn't be happy. On the other hand, he realized that she wasn't the kind of person you could lie to and expect to survive. "Yes, I was going to take your money." His voice squeaked a little, but, as he could feel the blood dribbling down his throat, he felt that this was the kind of situation you'd be allowed to panic.

"Pickpockets these days." The little girl sighed as she said this, but pulled her knife back a little. Not that he wouldn't be killed anymore if he so much as moved, but at least he could breathe without having to look like an extra from Highlander. "You're a little young though, don't you think kid? What'd they do? Take you from your cradle?"

Kid? Young? Who was she to talk? She was younger than he was, and, while she was far too comfortable with how to use that knife, pride overrode caution. "What the hell? I'm older than you are."

Although he was still focused on the girl's eyes he noticed that her lips turned into a smile. However, he also discovered that the smile didn't reach her eyes. "Ah, so you do have some spirit after all. You know, I really should kill you for trying to steal from me. But maybe you can be of some use to me."

Kill him? For being a pickpocket? That was rude, he'd never hurt anyone in his entire life and now this girl was thinking about killing him. The waiting expression on her face however, made him remember she had said something else as well. She had offered a way for him to survive. "I can help, I can do anything. Just tell me what you want me to do, and I'll do it." With some exceptions he didn't dare mention, out of fear that she'd kill him for doing so.

"Good, I hate to leave messy bodies lying around." Thank you god, Dave prayed. He might not actually be a religious person but in this case he didn't mind believing in a god, any god actually. "Now that we've established the fact that you'll help me, I'd like you to remember what'll happen if you try to mess with me, set me up, or do something else that would have unpleasant consequences for you."

After once more pushing the knife a little into his flesh, she put it away. The meaning of her actions had been clear, if he'd try to pull something the knife would be back, and this time it wouldn't stop before killing him. Caressing his throat with his hand he felt the stickiness that he should have expected, and when he lifted his hand in front of his face he could see, and smell, the blood on it. Feeling a bit safer he decided to take a small risk. "Before we do something though, would you mind if I cleaned up a little?"

. . . .

Now, despite the unfortunate incident, which the girl—Dawn—had promised never to tell anyone about, he had come to realize that it might just be his lucky day after all. From what she had told him, Dawn worked for someone who was new to LA, and she had been sent out to collect supplies. Which was what she had been doing when he had made his move, or tried to make it anyway.

But, after first interrupting her business, he was now actually starting to prove his usefulness to her. And that, he decided, was a good thing. The girl herself was probably one of the most dangerous people he'd ever met, and that was counting some very heavy dudes, but he was more than happy if he'd never have to meet this boss of hers. Who knew what kind of psycho that would be?

"So, where're we going now?" Dawn asked him.

"Tony. You said you needed weapons and Tony's the best when it comes to that."

A thoughtful look crossed her face. "He won't have any trouble with selling to a twelve year old?" So, she was twelve. He filed that piece of information away, as maybe one day it might prove to be useful.

"Normally he wouldn't sell it to you, but that's where I come in."

"Good, I don't like it when people are easy about giving away weapons to kids." Okay, and what was she then? This girl was strange, one moment she'd demand that people sell her guns, and who knows what else she'll come up with, and the next she appears to be some kind of gun control freak. Could he risk asking her about that? But no, the bitter taste of fear he'd felt when she'd been that close to killing him was enough to dissuade him from that course of action.

"Oh, you don't have to worry about that with Tony. He's a good guy, I'm sure you wouldn't even get anything without me vouching for you." Hah, how 'bout that? Let's see how she'll respond to a comment like that.

But the weird girl simply ignored it and the rest of the walk to Tony was made in silence, something Dave wasn't happy about, and he cursed his cowardice for preventing him from learning more about Dawn.

. . . .

"Tony, my man." Dave greeted the older man as he approached the van that served as Tony's primary shop.

"Dave, it's been a while. Who's your friend?" was the reply, as Tony nodded his head in the direction of Dawn.

"Ah, that's Dawn. She wants to buy some weapons, and I thought let's go to my good..." He trailed off as the other held up his hand.

"Dave, you know I don't do children. Look at the rules." Tony told him, while directing Dave's attention to the note displaying the five rules that went with buying something from him.

_1. Nobody under the age of sixteen can buy a weapon.  
2. Nobody under the age of eighteen can buy a firearm.  
3. Everybody who buys a weapon must prove to be able to use it.  
4. Payment in cash.  
5. If you betray me to the cops, you'll wish you were dead._

"Tony, she's not buying it for herself but for her boss. Come on, don't do this to me." The pleading note in his voice wasn't what he had wanted to put in there, but it did make the man reevaluate Dawn.

But he probably only saw the innocent front she projected. "Sorry Dave, but if this boss o' hers wants something, he'd better come get it himself."

Dave was about to try another argument when suddenly he felt something fly past his ear and a wooden thunk redirected his attention to the rules. "I don't really care about those two," came from behind him as he joined Tony in staring at the knife sticking out of the first two rules.

While the first thing Dave noticed was that this wasn't the same knife he'd experienced before, all Tony seemed to care about was that someone had used a weapon against him. "How dare you!" And with a movement of his hands, that Dave had seen only once before, he summoned his guards.

Two burly men bore down on the little girl, obviously not feeling like extending any mercy on account of her youth. With a sick feeling of fascination he watched the scene as it unfolded before him. His stomach started rebelling when he heard the first screams, but he controlled it, while never letting his eyes stray from the massacre. Dave had never been into violence, he understood that sometimes there was a reason for it, but he always considered it as a last resort. Unfortunately not everybody thought about it like that.

After a particularly hard scream he looked at the white-faced Tony, who now seemed to understand the situation a little better as well. "I think you're the only one who can make this stop, Tony."

"Yeah," Tony answered. "Yeah, alright. That's enough. Stop it."

Strangely enough, it actually seemed to work and Dawn stepped away from the two injured men, while returning her bloody knives to wherever they had come from. Looking into her eyes now, what he saw scared Dave even more than the emotionless orbs from before had.

The girl was bloodied, she hadn't come out of the fight unscathed, but her eyes. He shuddered, whether in fright or disgust he couldn't be certain, but the bright look in her eyes showed that she had loved it. And where the emotionless orbs from before had transmitted the message that killing him was something that didn't matter to her one way or the other, the look in them now clearly expressed which option she preferred.

Only, this time they were focused not on him, but on Tony. "Now, can we do business?"

"Who the fuck are you?" Tony asked in a shocked tone of voice. A shock that Dave could more than understand. While the guards might not have been martial arts wonders, they knew how to fight. And they out massed Dawn by more than enough to offset the knives that had suddenly appeared in her hands.

"I'm Dawn, and I'm here to buy something." Strange, he could see how putting her hand in her pocket was calming her down. The psycho seemed to fade away a little, and all that remained was the emotionless creature from before. Not that this one was any less dangerous, but still... If he had a choice he'd prefer the one who didn't care if she killed him to the one who would enjoy it.

"Yeah, I got that part." Was Tony suicidal or what? That tone of voice couldn't possibly get anything of a nice reaction from Dawn. "What I wanna know is how the hell you did that. 'Cause I've got a feeling you held back."

Held back? She massacred them! Turning to the man he almost asked him what that was about, when Dawn surprised him by her answer. "I didn't want to kill them."

While he was starting to feel more like a spectator, watching a game where he didn't understand the rules, Dave considered that comment. She had held back, which implied two things. She was capable of more than she'd shown, and that, despite the fact that she looked like some kind of psycho, she was able to stop herself from doing so.

"Why?" Tony had clearly been thinking about it as well, and had probably come up with some things Dave hadn't.

"There was no need to."

"No shit," Dave muttered under his breath, but his comment was ignored by the other two, causing him to feel even more like a spectator.

"Why?"

The ghost of a smile appeared on the girl's face after Tony had repeated his question, but she didn't offer anything more of an explanation. And, after a short staring match, Tony gave up on his attempt to get information this way.

"Fine, we'll do it your way. What are you looking for?"

Dawn approached the van, and, while tearing her knife from the wooden plank it was embedded in, she started talking. "A set of throwing knives, high quality of course. My boss also needs a small, compact gun. I was thinking something like a Glock 26, or 27."

"I take it you'll need bullets for the gun as well?"

"Yes, as well as a threaded barrel and silencer."

And although Dave still didn't understand anything about what had actually happened here, the two conducted their business, while ignoring the sound of a couple of hurt guards.

**XXX**

Well, she finally had her gun. And all she had to do to get it was terrify one little boy, beat up two people, and spend practically all the money she had taken from Ethan. And she had come so close to actually killing those people, well at least the two men, the boy hadn't been in that much danger. His fate had been in his own hands while the other two had made her lose control.

At least Dave and Tony had bought her explanation of why she hadn't killed the men. It had been just like with Ethan though, once she lost control she had gone straight for the torture method. But why? Mireille might've believed Kirika killed messily, but it was always done fairly clean, none of this messing about that seemed to be the norm for her now.

Walking alone through the streets Dawn kept wondering about it, could it have something to do with the Hellmouth? Was it a side effect of the spell? Or was she simply losing her grip on sanity? Was that the price for the abilities she had gained?

Until she could come up with a decent reason for her behavior she might as well accept that one. Was the ability to speak so many languages worth being pushed to the brink of sanity? Was the capability to kill someone with casual ease really that important to her? Did it matter? There was no way to turn it back now, if she had wanted to do that it should have been done immediately after Halloween.

A pang of pain made her grimace for a moment. Despite the fact that Tony's guards were in far worse shape than she was, she hadn't come off nearly as lightly as she had made Dave and him believe. Letting them see that would have been a mistake though, right now she couldn't afford to show any weakness. Doing so would sign her death warrant, and while the lives of others might not be sacred, hers was.

Which was another reason she refused to ask anyone for help. Kirika would die if she did so, and no even the Dawn part of her wanted that to happen. If Kirika left her now, she wouldn't have anything to fall back on. She wouldn't be able to deal with the emotions that she knew were still raging through her body. And all that was keeping them at bay right now was the control Kirika exerted, a control that had been present for almost an entire month now.

Everything seemed so much clearer now, she could see better; hear better, and even think better. Had she not been in this state she might not have even noticed the two people who were even now following her. Two people who were obviously anxious to find out where she was going, one out of morbid fascination, and the other for reasons she didn't know, let alone care about.

Every time she turned a corner she could hear the sudden sound of hurrying feet, one clumsy but extremely cautious, and the other sure but without the amount of fear that Dave still felt. She should have known that, despite everything, he'd try to follow her home. He was afraid of her—a perfectly understandable reaction—but he was still following her; and from the short conversation they had on their way to the weapons dealer she had figured him to be the kind of person who wanted to know everything.

In his eyes she could already see that he'd drawn the same conclusion Sara and Jane had. Multiple personalities in one tiny, but very volatile, packet. He was bright, and curious. A combination that, sooner or later, would undoubtedly lead him into a lot of trouble, unless she ensured it wouldn't happen.

But was she willing to do that? He had the contacts she would need, but it would be getting more and more difficult for her to hide the truth from him. A friend, could she actually make a new friend? The notion was ridiculous and she wondered if she hadn't been hit on the head after all. Friends died, maybe not immediately but her one attempt at befriending someone besides Mireille had proven that the blonde had been right about friends. Yet, it was also true that the Dawn part of her needed friends, as was proven by how she reacted to the two she already had.

"Black hands," Dawn whispered in Japanese, she had black hands and everything she touched would sooner or later die. How it would happen was anyone's guess, but that it would was certain. Nobody could live for long when they were friends with Noir. Not even family...

Mireille had even killed her sole living relative for her, but if it came to such a sacrifice, could she do the same? Would she be able to kill Buffy or her mother if the need arose? Four minds debated the issue, but no consensus was reached. The part of her that thrived on violence loved the idea, and the part of her that currently ruled didn't really care one way or another, but if it became necessary wouldn't hesitate about pulling the trigger.

The kinder Kirika personality saw it as something similar to killing Mireille, impossible to do... unless there was a very good reason. And the Dawn part of her didn't even have to think about it. Four minds, four different opinions. Yes, why not, only if necessary, and a clear no. How was she supposed to become a stable person if she couldn't even reach an agreement on such a simple matter?

But it wasn't a simple matter. By now her feet had brought her to a park and she walked to the pond in order to study her reflection. She had some scrapes and bruises that would need to be cleaned up before she went home, but that wasn't the thing she was looking at. Like she knew the boy had done earlier, she studied her eyes. The emotionless orbs that had become her main feature over the past month stared back at her, until she allowed the other personalities to take over.

Sadness, lust, and finally an odd mixture of fear and confusion showed in her eyes. No, it was a good thing she didn't allow emotions to rule her now. The sadness wasn't that bad, but if she'd start dwelling about every little thing the way she had during her time with Mireille, nothing would get done. Lust wouldn't have been so bad, if it hadn't been the lust for revenge, the lust for hurting people, the need for extreme violence. Which only left the other one, the real Dawn. Even thinking that was strange. Was that still the real Dawn? The little girl who had finally cracked after wrestling with her emotions and allowed her to take over? Or was the real Dawn someone else now? Was she the real one? Or was it the weaker her, maybe even the other?

Taking a deep breath she allowed herself to enjoy the smell of the grass and trees, a smell that always reminded her of the Manor. No, she had done the right thing in taking over / allowing herself to be taken over. All of her agreed on that, even if the strange personality wished that it had been her who now ruled this body.

And in debating over what she had become she had also reached another decision, one that might turn out to be just as important. She would talk to Dave, let him in a little, and extend her protection to him. But to do so she first needed to get rid of the other person following her. Violence was always an option, but she doubted he would let her come close enough to inflict any real damage, and she had a feeling that any attempt to use the gun would show that she wasn't capable of doing so yet. Or at least not with anything approaching competence. So she had to find another way to go about it.

Dawn looked around until she finally spotted what she was looking for. Her current body might be weak, but why should weakness always be considered a flaw? Sometimes it was extremely useful. Kneeling down she took some dirt and spread it over her face and clothes, the cuts and bruises would help but might not be enough by themselves. Besides, something like this couldn't be overdone. Once her preparations were complete she raised herself to her full height—what little of it there was—and prepared herself for yet another acting performance.

. . . .

Crashing out of the bushes near the police officer had been a gamble, but if she hadn't he might have wondered why he hadn't seen her before. She ran past him, partly blinded by the fake tears she had once again called upon, until he reached out and grabbed her.

"Hey, little girl. What's going on?" The calming voice asked her, proving that she had made a good guess where it concerned his personality.

"A man," she sniffled a little to show even more of the fear she wanted to project. "A man is following me, and I'm scared. Can you help me officer?"

"A man? Can you tell me what he looks like?" The cop had already started to peer around in an obvious attempt to spot the bad man who was following the innocent little girl.

"I-I'm not sure, I never really saw him that good. I think he's about thirty, has blond hair and is about five foot nine. Oh, and he was coming from there." While pointing at the alley where she had last noticed her pursuer she hoped she hadn't ruined everything by the way she had described the man. A terrified little girl wouldn't be able to give such an accurate description, but luckily the officer hadn't seemed to notice.

The cop was now looking in the direction she had indicated, while considering his options. "Do you know if he was alone?"

"I-I think so," Dawn sniffled, before she continued in a more confident tone. "Yes, I'm sure he was."

"Okay," the helpful officer told her, once again looking around but this time probably for reinforcement. She hadn't thought about the possibility that there might be another one around, something that might very well ruin her plan, but she was relieved when he didn't find anyone and turned back to her. Maybe now he would go after the guy who had been tailing her, but no, he grabbed his radio and spoke to another cop.

The conversation that followed wasn't what she had wanted to hear, but she should have remembered that outside of Sunnydale there actually existed that rare breed known as competent officers. They wouldn't let a little girl be alone after she had been stalked by some guy. Now she would probably be taken to a police station where she would be asked some questions, and with her current stroke of luck they'd probably even call her father. The thought of that alone was enough to sour her mood even more.

The officer didn't seem to notice however, and she made sure to keep up the façade of terrified little girl even after his partner had arrived. At least after that, they managed to get rid of her pursuer, which was at least something, even if it meant she didn't have a chance to talk to Dave either. Oh well, maybe she'd get that chance tomorrow, or Monday at the latest.

. . . .

By the time she was back at her father's house, her mood had improved again. Despite their annoying competence, the cops hadn't been too bad. At the station she had received something to drink, had a chance to freshen up, and even change her clothes. The spare clothes she had in her backpack had easily been explained as the result of a shopping spree.

They had even bought her story about why she didn't want her father contacted, and were more than willing to drive her to within a couple of blocks of his house, instead of to the door. Of course, she hoped for her father's sake that he'd never meet those cops since they wouldn't have much of an opinion about him, but that wasn't her problem.

Now though, it was time for something different. Safely in her room, with the blinds closed and the knowledge that her father wouldn't be home for several hours she unpacked the weapons she had bought. The gleaming set of knives meant that she could finally be certain that she would hit what she aimed for. And the gun.

She looked at the Glock 26 that she had chosen to be her primary weapon, for the time being. When Tony had told her he had both the 26 and 27 she had to think about which one she preferred. Go for the one that could carry more bullets, or the one with the bigger rounds, making for more stopping power. If she ever went to hunt demons and vampires, the Glock 27 would be more useful because of that particular property. But demons weren't what she was going to be killing for the time being.

Her sister was the one who took care of those creatures; she would stay focused on the human side of things. Not that it really mattered to her if the targets were innocents or not, but innocents didn't need to be killed as often as the so-called bad guys. Yes, maybe once she was in better shape she would go and hunt a vampire or two, just to see how she could get rid of them, but until that happened she'd better devote herself to her training.

Having checked everything, she put the weapons back into her backpack, and even added a piece of chalk she had brought for exactly this occasion. Having changed back into the clothes that looked like they had been through a war, Dawn then exited the house. The sewers in Los Angeles might not be as good for target practice as the ones in Paris had been, but for now they would have to do.

----------------------

Post-fic comments: Four more parts to follow after this one, one every two days like usual. I realize I haven't answered a lot of reviews lately, but to prove I actually do read them I'll answer most of the questions asked about Dark, Darker,... and UC: Heart of Darkness here.

Xander's memories and such from Halloween: Well, they'll show up... somewhere around the next chapter I believe.

Why didn't I combine The Day After and Dark, Darker, ...? Mostly because I wanted to finish a second story, but as all the stories are part of a larger whole, it doesn't really matter anyway.

The Unforeseen Consequences storyline: A short explanation of what is going on there is the following, a more detailed one will eventually come in one of the stories.

Dawn is the Key, that's something we all know and we know that this means she is used to cross to different dimensions. I personally don't believe that the only way to do that is by destroying all the boundaries, that's just the simple solution Glory came up with and be honest, she wasn't the smartest deity around. Due to the whole way Dawn's mind is messed up she's gained a subconcious control over the powers of the Key (and no in my stories she'll never gain concious control). This way she can end up in another universe but still remaining the same person, she gains a background in that universe the same way she did in this one so nobody thinks it strange she suddenly appeared (after all, there is only one Key so she can't have existed in those other universes). This whole business also uses the idea that every universe that has been imagined (by a writer, tv producer or even someone's mind) actually exists. Constraints here are the fact that she remains on Earth and in her own time, where in her own time means a period of time that she's alive, so she can't go to 1950 or 2150 (unless it's in a universe where medical breakthroughs would have made that possible). Since she, more or less, actually goes there everything that happens to her really happens. This does indeed mean that she can get wounded there, which would only leave scars, and even die, which would leave a corpse.

The Dark Angel crossover: Is scratched from the UC verse, which by the way will get more direct involvement with the rest of the verse in future stories. Dark Angel will however show up in a separate storyline I've created here, which will basically be what if events during Dark, Darker, ... went a little different?

More Harry Potter: Is being planned, I have no idea when it'll come since I need to be able to put it somewhere useful.

The Dawn hating magic thing: Is mostly explained in earlier stories. Magic ruined her life, it took one of her personalities away from where she was happy and is a constant threat to her sister's life.

Dawn during Chosen: Well, we're still in the second season here, so that'll probably take a while :-)


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

"Okay, that does it," Xander said as, for the umpteenth day in a row, he woke up while standing under a cold shower. Well, not woke up exactly. He dimly remembered how he had ended up in there, so he must've been at least half awake, but this was really going too far. The soldier memories weren't doing what they were supposed to do. Was it that much to ask for some decent sleeping time?

Stepping out of the shower and toweling of, he considered it for a moment. No, it wasn't too much. Every man had the right not to be awoken on the second day of his Christmas break by some redundant memories, that believed six o'clock was the right time to get out of bed. He could deal with it when he had classes, even during the weekends it could be considered as just another annoying side-effect of his nighttime activities.

"But not in my vacation," he growled before reentering his, clean, room. And that was another thing, how could anyone live in a place where everything was ordered? He had always been of the 'pile it somewhere and deal with it later' variety, but now... Now he could actually tell where everything was. And, according to what Giles had read in that book of his, this could go on for a long time.

In fact, he thought angrily, it would go on longer the more he used it. And considering the fact that the waking up thing happened every single morning that meant it might go on for years. He really couldn't deal with that. He needed his sleep, sleeping in was a good thing. In fact, it almost rated as high as twinkies did.

So, what should he do now? He was awake, but as it was still dark outside he didn't really have anything to do. A problem he'd had ever since that Halloween, but one he had adapted to by putting his homework off until his six o'clock wake-up call. But it was vacation! He didn't have any homework to do.

Okay, now he was really starting to scare himself. Quickly returning to the bathroom he checked his reflection in the mirror. No, there didn't seem to be anything wrong with him physically. But there had to be something, this just wasn't natural. Never before had he actually had such a ridiculous thought where he wished for homework. He was Xander, not Willow. Homework equaled badness, something everybody understood.

Now then, having decided that whatever was wrong with him had to do with mystical stuff he didn't really know what to do. Call Buffy or Willow and ask them to help him? Considering the time that might be tantamount to suicide, and the situation wasn't nearly bad enough for something like that. But what else could he do? Not coming up with any other ideas he gave up for the moment and chose to make breakfast. Maybe he'd be able to think of something with a full stomach.

XXX

"Did you get it?" Jane asked her friend as the door opened for her.

Sara looked at her with an expression that clearly stated her opinion about the likelihood of failure. "Of course I've got it. Do you doubt my shopping abilities now?"

Sara Flynn, shopping queen. "Of course not, I wouldn't think about it. You are the mistress of the mall, the ruler of shops, the..."

"Alright, stop it," Sara broke in, struggling not to laugh at her antics. "Come in, and I'll show it to you."

Now we're talking, Jane thought as she followed her friend inside. "Hey, have you talked to Dawn since she left?"

"Nah, you?"

"Last night actually. She called me, said she'd probably call you tonight or tomorrow."

"As she should," Sara snorted before going into the kitchen. "Want something?"

"A coke please," Jane answered, before turning back to the reason she'd brought up her conversation with Dawn. "Her dad is giving her some trouble about the incident."

"Really? Whatever for? Wasn't she punished enough, I mean I know she went a little overboard, but come on," Jane said while handing her the cold drink she'd requested.

"Thanks. But yeah, I don't really get it myself. And apparently her father even used some stupid excuses after he blew up."

"Oh god, let me guess," Sara put up a fake look of concentration. "Was it the bad day at the office one, or maybe he had a bad hair day?"

"Well, he used the office one, but it was basically of the 'I don't want you to ruin your life' sort."

"Oh no, doesn't he know Dawn at all? I mean, if something like that was gonna work she'd never have beaten Mike up."

"Yeah, but she's changed since he last saw her. Not," Jane added at the look she received, "that that is actually a good reason, but it would explain his behavior. Especially what with dragging Buffy in it and all."

"He compared her to Buffy? And I thought the other thing was stupid. So, how'd she react?"

"Fake tears and all that sort of guilt tripping."

"Good."

At least Sara understood this sort of thing, but Jane wondered if there would be anyone else who could. "Yeah, it would've really been bad if she'd attacked him or something."

"We really need to find out what's wrong with her, you know. Especially now that she's started to show up in the morning looking like a zombie."

She sighed, while considering that. They had talked about what might be the cause of Dawn's bad sleeping thing, but until she stayed over for a night they couldn't find out. Luckily though that time was coming soon; most of their friend's punishment had been done with and once the grounding was over the two of them could surely come up with a reason to get her to stay over. "I'm sure we'll find out soon. Anyway, we've talked about that enough, I want to see it."

"Oh alright, it's upstairs in my room. Finish your drink and we'll go look."

Not needing to be told twice, Jane drained her nearly full glass of black, bubbly liquid in one go and jumped to her feet. "So, what are we waiting for? I'm done." And when Sara stared at her in shock, still holding her own full glass, she burst out in laughter.

XXX

After breakfast Xander had indeed remembered a good way to spend his time, so for the next several hours he had enjoyed watching Sunday morning cartoons. By the time his parents had gotten out of bed he'd decided to head out to see if Willow or Buffy were up yet. Of course, his luck struck again and, aside from the cartoons, he had a feeling nothing was going to be right on that day. Unfortunately, this time he couldn't blame anyone besides himself. He'd completely forgotten their girls' day out and by the time he arrived they'd already left.

So he had to figure it out by himself, or go to Giles. Xander considered that for a moment, but decided against it. Even the G-man deserved a break, and besides why wouldn't he be able to come up with something by himself? And if he really couldn't figure anything out, he could always wait for his friends to return before having to bother the Brit with his problems. But first he would try it himself.

So it was that, almost two months after he'd spent a morning on that same bench, he was once again sitting in the park. And while watching the children playing all around him, he started to make a mental list of the issues he was facing.

_1. He was still influenced by the spell that had messed up his Halloween.  
2. This meant that he woke up at an ungodly hour in the morning.  
3. That was definitely going to ruin his vacation.  
4. He also cleaned his room to such an extent that even his mother had noticed. She who never noticed anything.  
5. He had all the worst characteristics of the soldier.  
6. Why couldn't that sort of thing ever work for him, instead of against him?_

He stopped with the ridiculous list when he considered that last point. Why couldn't it work in his favor? After all, Giles never said that only the annoying bits would keep bothering him. Of course, he also said that he couldn't be certain about any of it, but that sort of thing shouldn't stop him from trying.

So, if he couldn't get rid of it all, maybe he should try and get something positive out of it? That was definitely an option, and one he liked at that. Now, with that decided, how should he go about it? What could he learn from the soldier that might actually be of use? Military tactics? Well that would be a little hard to practice, but might help him in videogames.

What else? Everything that he chose was something that he should be able to practice, as without practice he would lose the skill. Just like in real life, Xander snorted. But he couldn't think of anything right then, which left only the one thing that soldiers were actually known for. The fighting.

He didn't know a lot about fighting styles, but he was aware that there were probably three kinds of fighting that he'd need to practice. Unarmed combat, which would probably require a martial arts class or something like that. Knife fighting, which he had no idea how to practice. And finally, firearms. Guns. He'd have to learn how to use a gun.

But how useful was a gun against a vampire? Both of the others he knew would be useful—substitute a knife with a stake and he would be able to dust a vampire. Unarmed, but capable of fighting? At least you'd have a chance to survive until an opportunity presented itself or help arrived. But a gun? He thought back to the only time he knew of when guns had been used against vampires.

During that night of Halloween the soldier that had taken over his body had used his gun against the bloodsuckers. The effect hadn't exactly been great however. While it had enabled him to stake one of the vamps they mostly just laughed at his attempt. Remembering the grisly sight of the massacred vampire however, he realized that bullets might have some use after all. If you shot a vampire several times in the head, they were helpless.

Only one problem with that scenario. How do you get a vamp to stand still long enough for you to aim carefully and put the bullet where you want it? Because Xander had no doubt that the ease with which they did so in Hollywood wasn't exactly close to the way it happened in reality. Sure, there were undoubtedly people who could draw a gun and without taking the time to really aim shoot someone in the head.

But they were also undoubtedly the exception, and not the rule. To achieve a skill like that would take a lot of practice, but why shouldn't he try? It couldn't hurt and maybe there were other things that a skill like that might help with. Some demons might be vulnerable to bullets, after all that would make sense wouldn't it? And maybe there was a way to create wooden bullets or something? Right, and maybe he should stop fantasizing and actually try to get his hands on a gun before he tried something like that.

So, he had a plan. Yep, a real, honest-to-god, plan. It was almost scary. Now what was the plan again? Oh yeah. See about martial arts training, which would probably have to wait until after the break was over since those places were probably closed now. But on the other hand, he could ask where it was that Dawnie went; if that place was good for her, it might be for him as well. Now then, what else? The knife fighting thing, of course. He'd probably have to ask G-man about that, it was unlikely that there was anyone else in town he could talk to who might be able to teach him how to fight with a stake. Hey, maybe he should ask him about the unarmed stuff too? He did train Buffy in it after all. On the other hand, his training might then interfere with hers, and he didn't want that to happen either. He'd have to think about it.

And finally there was the gun thing. Giles was unlikely to know about something like that, after all the guy was from a country where not even the cops carried guns. So, who could he go to who might know a way for him to train with a gun?

XXX

"Wow, it looks so real," Jane murmured while picking up their gift for Dawn. "Hey, it's even heavy."

"When I buy, I buy the best," Sara said, looking more than a little pleased that Jane had approved of the way it looked.

"Definitely, and I'm sure Dawn'll love it."

"Almost as much as the other idea."

Oh no, not again. "Oh come on, you know we couldn't do that."

"It would've been fun though, and she'd have been really happy with it." But the look Jane gave her friend was obviously enough for her to amend that statement—slightly. "Yeah, yeah. I know, we couldn't do it because of your logical reasons."

"Logistical reasons."

"Logical, logistical, what's the diff? I never swallowed a dictionary you know."

Jane swatted her friend, even though the long standing joke was becoming a little stale by now she kept reacting to it. Who knew what the two of them would come up with if she didn't? "Logistical means transportation and storage, you bonehead."

"See, what kind of problem is that? He has feet doesn't he?"

Even knowing that Sara was joking didn't keep her from reacting to the statement. "Yeah, and I'm sure he'd willingly walk where we'd direct him. Sheesh. Anyway, that would still leave the storage thing."

"Oh, that wouldn't be a problem. Dawn'd probably tie him to her bed. I'm pretty sure she wouldn't mind that."

"Yeah, you're probably right about that." Just thinking of how her friend would deal with that gift almost sent her to the ground laughing. "But that's not what I meant, and you know it. Even if it was, there'd be the trouble of feeding and stuff."

Sara, obviously having come up with answers in advance to everything she'd be able to think of, immediately spoke up. "Oh, she could walk him."

It took a while to dispel the laughter that resulted from that image, but when it had she decided she might as well join in. "Right, and can you imagine Buffy's face when she'd come down on Christmas Morning?"

"Yeah," Sara said, before trying to copy the voice of their friend's sister. "Dawn? Why is Xander lying wrapped up under the tree? With a card that says he's for you?"

"Down girl. I can hardly breathe here," Jane gasped in between fits of laughter. It was a ridiculous idea, and so very impractical that they really had to try to do it some day—maybe for Dawn's birthday. An opportunity like that was just too good to waste. She was gaining a little control over her body again, but when she looked at Sara who was still trying to mimic how Buffy would look in that situation, the giggles started up again.

When they had finally recovered Jane turned serious though. "You know, while I'm sure that she'll love it, are we doing the right thing?"

"What? Giving a weapon to someone who has at least one personality that loves violence?" Sara shrugged, clearly not agreeing that there was anything serious about the situation. "I trust that Dawn won't do anything really bad with it, besides it's wood y'know. And while I bought the best I could get, we didn't have enough money for it to be anything but a toy."

"A toy, well maybe." Examining the gift once again Jane considered their options. She had been the one to push for this idea, but still... "Well, I guess you're right about that. But you know what they say. If it walks like a duck, talks like a duck, and looks like a duck..."

"Duck? It's a sword, what's that got to do with a duck?" Hearing her friend say that, Jane did her utmost to resist the urge to beat her own head against the wall. Sometimes being the only one to understand certain sayings really got to her.

XXX

He was actually firing a gun. And even, after quite some misses, coming close to hitting the things he aimed for. Well, Xander winced as another shot went wide, sometimes close wasn't quite the word he was looking for. On the other hand he knew that his shooting wasn't all that bad. When he paid attention he managed to hit the white circle almost every single time, and often at least one of those shots was near the bull's-eye.

Stepping back he ejected the clip and, licking his dry lips, looked at his uncle for the comments that had proven to be so very useful. The man was looking critically at the target hanging from the ceiling about 50 feet away, clearly considering the response he should give this time. It was strange how expecting a comment from a member of his family could actually make him nervous.

After all, it wasn't like most of them had ever really paid any attention to him. But when, hours before, he'd arrived at his uncle's place asking to be taught how to use a gun, there'd actually been a long conversation. Why did he want to use a gun? Was he planning on buying one? Did he know how to take care of something like that? Had he ever learned basic safety where it concerned guns?

He'd had to dodge the first question, telling his uncle he wanted to use it for hunting demons was unlikely to have elicited the response he wanted. The second question was one he didn't actually know the answer to; did he want to buy a gun? Well, at least not before he could use it, after that he'd see. Guns cost money and, like with his plans for enrolling at a martial arts school, he wasn't sure how to finance that.

The other ones though he hadn't known anything about. So, after he had pleaded for his uncle to at least teach him the basics, and let him practice a little, the man explained it to him. How to clean your gun, how to check the sights, everything he'd never known about taking care of a weapon like that. And while in a way it was fairly simple, it was also far more complex than he'd imagined it to be.

But then came the safety regulations. And Xander was taught that the most important and basic part of shooting wasn't pulling the trigger, but making sure he didn't hit what he wasn't aiming for. Don't carry a round in the chamber, never forget to engage the safety. Make sure it's never within reach of children, and, very important, never ever combine guns with alcohol. Hearing that from a member of his family told him exactly how important that little detail was.

And finally, after it was clear that Xander understood all the implications of what carrying a gun entailed according to his uncle, they went to the shooting range. His uncle might not have been a regular, but he did know most of those who were. So when he told them he'd come to teach his nephew how to shoot, Xander had suddenly become the center of attention. A position he hadn't really wanted to be in, but had no choice about.

Comments had started flying about what kind of gun he should use, what type would fit his hands best, how he should ride the recoil. And even more comments, half of which he didn't understand at all. But when one of the regulars, a retired army sergeant, had handed him a Beretta M-9 he had known that was it. The same type of gun as he'd used during Halloween, he was certain that he'd be able to use it nearly instantaneously.

Well, at least they hadn't laughed when he emptied the first clip without once hitting the target. But that hadn't really mattered, he'd still felt as if he was the worst shot ever. Fifteen clear misses, at a mere forty feet, while he'd been sure he'd hit the bull's-eye every time. After that humiliating experience it had become obvious that no matter how many memories he might have about firing guns, it wasn't nearly the same when you were actually holding the weapon.

"Well, except for that second-to-last one, this wasn't that bad a round. Don't you agree men?" his uncle broke his train of thoughts.

"Nah Rory, the kid's starting to shape up. With a couple more weeks of practice we might even forget that first attempt." Okay, so they hadn't needed laughter to ridicule him. Did he really have to be reminded of it that often?

"Don't be so hard on the boy Jake. He simply watched too much television, that could've happened to anyone."

"Yeah, but he's still not handling the recoil well," one of the other men said, one who he, in absence of a name, had started to think of as the recoil man. "Remember Xander, you're not that big and strong. You can't expect your body to be able to handle the pressure that the gun puts on it. Maybe once you've buffed up a little, but not yet."

Listening carefully to the man, as he tried to explain how he should deal with the recoil, Xander didn't even notice the pain in his muscles, or the way his nose seemed stuffed with the smell of burned cordite. He was finally learning something useful for helping Buffy and, despite their insistent teasing, these men were doing their best to help him achieve that goal.

XXX

Sitting with her back against the hard frame of Sara's bed, Jane was busy considering the difficult question she'd just been asked. "No, I'd still have to go for Titanic. It was a little predictable what with knowing it was gonna sink and all, but I liked it more."

"Really? And was it the story that you liked, or the main character?"

Who did she think she was? Well, her best friend naturally, but really, what kind of question was that? "The story of course, sheesh, who do you think I am? Some kind of cheerleader wannabe?"

"So, you didn't like him?"

"I never said that," Jane defended herself. Just because he wasn't the main reason didn't mean that he wasn't a positive point. "In fact, if you absolutely have to gift-wrap someone as a Christmas present I wouldn't mind getting him."

Their laughter was interrupted by a knock on the door. "Sara?"

"Oh, hi mom," Sara answered as she walked over to open the door. "Is there something you want?"

"No dear, I just came up to tell you I was home. Hello Jane," the woman then greeted her.

"Hi Mrs Flynn."

"Don't let me disturb you any longer then, I'll be downstairs if you need anything."

"Sure mom," Sara said while closing the door, and moving to take her seat next to Jane again. "So, where were we?"

"You were just about to go and catch me a movie star as a Christmas present."

"Well I would, but you know there are these logic- I mean logistical reasons why I can't do it." And to think she managed to say that with a straight face!

"Bitch," Jane said fondly to her friend.

"Yeah, you too. Hey, you wanna stay over for dinner?"

"What're you having?"

"Dunno, probably something good though, and besides, that way mom and I won't have to eat alone." Oh yeah, Mr. Flynn was on some kind of business trip again.

"Will your dad be back in time for Christmas?"

For a moment her friend looked sad as she considered it. "Hopefully, he wasn't really sure though."

Oh man, that really blew. "Hey, cheer up girl, I'm sure he'll be on time. And he'll probably bring you some nice present to make it up to you."

"As long as you get things right?"

If she hadn't known her friend meant it as a joke she would've felt insulted, instead though, she decided to play along. "Yeah well, you know how it is. Love 'em and leave 'em."

"Oh yes. And I'm sure that the hundreds of men you've had have all been very disappointed when they woke up to find you gone," Sara said before once again collapsing in a heap of giggling flesh. And it wasn't long before Jane joined the madness.

"Hey, who knows? In a couple of years I might be going through men the way you go through clothes."

"Sure, and maybe I'll go and join a nunnery. Face it Jane, you're just too nice to do the love 'em and leave 'em thing."

Should she feel insulted or complimented about that? Deciding not to try to figure that out Jane changed the subject back to where it was before this. "But anyway, I'll have to call my parents but I'd like to stay for dinner."

"Cool, I'll tell mom." Jane watched as Sara jumped up and once more walked to the door before shouting downstairs. "MOM!"

When no reply was forthcoming though she noticed how her friend suddenly realized something. "What?"

Sara rolled her eyes, obviously finding what she was about to say ridiculous. "I forgot, mom's been all over me teaching me to be a proper lady and all. She won't answer when I shout. I'll have to go downstairs to tell her. Hey! Stop laughing! That isn't funny! JANE!"

XXX

"So, what do you think of your first day shooting a gun?" his uncle asked.

He needed a moment to think of the best way to reply to that statement, after all, it wasn't nearly as innocuous a question as it seemed. "It wasn't really what I expected. I mean, I really thought I'd be doing better."

A brief smile appeared on his uncle's face, while the man pulled to a stop in front of a traffic light. "Don't worry about that, you were doing pretty good there at the end. Everybody has to start somewhere. Although that first round of yours surprised me, it almost looked as if you knew exactly how to go about it but your body didn't. Care to explain that?" When Xander remained silent however, his uncle went on with another question. "But what other impressions did you get?"

"Sore muscles," Xander grumbled, while still trying to ignore another comment about his first attempt, the request for information, and ease the pain in his suffering arm. "I didn't expect it to hurt like this."

"Like Brad kept telling you, you didn't handle the recoil right. But even after you start doing so it will probably keep hurting for a while. What else?"

What was this? Twenty questions? No, he probably hadn't given the man the answer he wanted to hear yet. But what could that be? Oh, of course. "That guns should be handled with care, that they aren't toys to be used at every opportunity." While it was probably the answer that needed to be given for him to ever be allowed back on the shooting range, that wasn't the only reason he gave it. Using a gun as he did during the afternoon, and listening to all the stories the men had been more than willing to tell, had taught him respect for the weapon.

"Well, at least you've got the right words," Uncle Rory said while looking him over briefly. "And I can see that you mean it, which is even better. You do realize of course, that if I hadn't believed you this would've been our one and only visit to the range."

So, he had been right about that. And considering the good terms his uncle had been on with everybody there, he would've been able to ensure Xander never entered it alone either. Wait a minute, that also meant that... "You're gonna keep on teaching me?"

"A little, there isn't that much you'll need to be taught about shooting inside. Of course, out in the open it's a little different, although something like the wind isn't that much of a factor with handguns. Not that I would be able to teach you how to use a sniper rifle or anything, you'd have to ask the sergeant about that." Ask to be taught how to use a sniper rifle? While that sounded like fun, it also was a lot more than he'd expected.

"But why? I mean, I appreciate it and all, but you didn't seem to think it a good idea at first."

"I didn't believe you'd be able to handle a gun like it should be."

"You mean as a dangerous tool, instead of a toy?" That probably made sense, didn't it?

"Something like that," his uncle answered, before diverting the conversation to something else as he pulled to a stop in front of his house. "So, will you stay for dinner?"

XXX

"So Jane, Sara told me that you came up with the idea for Dawn's present." Uh-oh. It never meant anything good if a parent started talking like that. Oh well, she might as well see where this was gonna lead.

"Yeah, I did." Rule one when confronting a parent: If they want information, let them work for it.

"Do you think it's wise to give her a weapon when she's been so..." A silence followed as Sara's mom was thinking of a good word to describe Dawn's recent behavior.

"So violent? Of her rocker? Mentally disturbed? In need of having a loose screw reattached? Is that what you wanted to know Mrs. Flynn?" Even as she said it she knew she shouldn't have done so. Protecting her friend from abuse was fine, but common decency told her she shouldn't do it like this. Especially not while she was eating the woman's cooking.

"That's not quite how I would've put it, but yes." Man, Mrs. Flynn was good. She hardly batted an eye at that outburst, and the worst part was that it was the same question she'd asked Sara earlier. But they were allowed to ask themselves that kind of question, Dawn was their friend. Mrs. Flynn was a parent, so she decided to defend her friend against this unfair attack.

Finishing the potato she was eating Jane swallowed audibly before answering. "Okay, just to get this out of the way. Dawn might've had some issues with her control, but it isn't that bad. I know that nobody but us," she included Sara with a tilting of her head. "Believes that she was telling the truth about the self-defense thing."

"Self-defense doesn't normally end in the hospitalization of the attacker," Mrs. Flynn interjected.

"Pah," Jane waved that comment away. "The guy had it coming, he provoked Dawn and just because she's better doesn't mean he can go and scream for help as if he was an innocent little angel. He's one of the biggest bullies in school, no matter how innocent he tries to appear now."

"Yeah mom, he deserved what he got," Sara agreed with her.

"And that is why I don't think it's a good idea," Mrs. Flynn told her daughter. "You're starting to think like that as well, and so are you Jane. Violence isn't the answer to things like that."

"It can sure be damn handy though," Sara muttered in an aside.

"Sara!" Mrs. Flynn barked, shocking them both at the sudden intensity. "Watch your language young lady, or there will be trouble for you."

Strange how she had been more concerned about the words used than the actual comment, Jane thought. Maybe this conversation wasn't exactly what it appeared to be after all. But before she could ask about it Sara spoke up in a tiny voice. "Yes mom."

"Now Jane, as I said violence isn't the answer. And while I know it might seem like that sometimes, I'd expect the two of you, and Dawn as well, to understand the truth about that."

"But why do you keep talking about it? Most of the teachers don't even talk about it anymore, not even to Dawn. It was a one-off thing, it hasn't happened since," Jane pleaded, trying to regain her grip on the conversation. There was something wrong about it; it almost seemed that if she read between the lines Mrs. Flynn was actually condoning Dawn's action, but that couldn't be true now could it?

"I know, I've actually spoken to Joyce about it." Joyce? Oh, she probably meant Dawn's mom. "But I'm afraid it might get rekindled if you give her a weapon."

"Oh come on mom, I already told you. It's a fake, a good fake maybe, but still a fake."

"Yes, you've told me. And it's supposed to look exactly like one used in that violent show you three are so fond of. But be honest, do you think it could be used to hurt someone?" Mrs. Flynn had an expectant look on her face as she asked that last question.

Okay, Jane thought, she was finally starting to have a feeling where this might be leading. Maybe it wasn't so much about Dawn's actions, as to why they would buy her a weapon. Considered from a parental point of view that might look a little strange. Now then, how to actually talk the woman around to their point of view? From what she knew of Sara's mom, the woman considered truth to be very important, in fact, Sara often received more punishment for lying about something than whatever it was that she did. So telling the truth it was.

"Yes, it could be used to hurt someone. Especially by someone who doesn't really know how to handle a sword."

A satisfied smile on Mrs. Flynn's face told her that telling the truth had indeed been the right thing to do. Unfortunately, the smile could also mean that the woman considered her point to be proven. "Exactly my point. Another question, do you think Dawn, who only started martial arts training less than two months ago, is capable of handling it?"

"Yes." "Yes." Came from both Jane and Sara, who then looked at each other in surprise. But Jane was certain of it, Dawn was probably the only person she knew who she would trust using a sword. Why, that was so, she didn't know, but there was no doubt in her mind about it.

Apparently Mrs. Flynn had anticipated that answer as well. "I thought so, and while I doubt either of you understands exactly why, let alone are able to explain it to me, I'll just have to accept it, don't I?"

Well, that was easy, a little too easy perhaps. No, not perhaps, it was way too easy. But at least that part of the conversation appeared to be over now—until Mrs. Flynn opened her mouth again.

"And I have to admit that, while I'm not entirely comfortable yet with you two giving her a sword, it's a lot better than gift-wrapping that poor boy." Hey! How had she known about that?

XXX

This was just bloody wonderful, Xander thought as he made his way home. He really shouldn't have stayed that long with his uncle, or at least asked for a ride home, no matter how stupid that might've looked. But he hadn't done so, and now here he was walking through the dark, with a single cross as his only protection against the things that go bump in the night.

Oh well, he wasn't really good at statistics but what were the chances of him encountering a vampire or demon on his short path home? Oh yeah, this really was a wonderful situation. Had it been anyone else, any random inhabitant of Sunnydale, he would've been sure that the random person would get home unmolested. But not him, oh no, he knew his own luck. If winning the lotto was a million in one chance, there was no way he'd ever be the one to walk home with the prize. But if encountering a vampire on this walk, now while he was virtually unarmed, had the same chance of success, he'd win the prize.

Only a couple of more streets and one park to go. When would they come for him? For a moment he considered going to Buffy's house, but he had no idea if she'd be home, and he couldn't exactly ask Mrs. Summers if he could borrow a stake, now could he?

Nope, he'd just have to trust in his great and powerful cross, and hope that he'd make it home before it became necessary to actually test his nonexistent skills in unarmed combat. So he continued on, carefully looking around him so he'd be able to spot any trouble before it reached him. Without a weapon he might not be able to fight the creatures, but if it really came down to it he could run.

When he reached the park he still hadn't encountered any vampires, and with trees all around him he didn't have any trouble acquiring a makeshift stake. At least he wouldn't have to be afraid of being totally defenseless against an attack now. A broken-off branch from a tree wasn't the most reliable of weapons though, so he decided not to hang about but go straight home. If he wanted to go out again later, he could grab a decent stake first. No need to take any unnecessary risks.

Walking through the park he didn't need to hide his weapon and kept a firm grip on both the cross and the piece of tree he'd broken off. But even so he kept his ears and eyes wide open for any trouble that might be heading in his direction.

"I can't believe that bitch. Who does she think she is?" The words weren't very loud, and came from a way off, but Xander decided not to take any chances and stepped away from the path. If whoever was coming up from behind him was actually human he could always continue his walk later. If it wasn't however he might want to think about killing it.

When the first speaker received an answer though, he decided against it. One of whatever it was, and he was starting to bet on vampires, he might be able to handle, but two was a little too much. "The boss."

"Very funny, I mean why does she believe she can rule us?"

"Because she's more powerful maybe? Come on Tom, what do you think you're doing? Trying to get yourself dusted or something? If she hears you..." The threat was left hanging in the air but Xander, who by now had a good feeling who the two vampires were talking about, could imagine what might happen all too well.

"Pfft, as if she hears anything that hasn't got to do with that Green Lady of hers. And I mean, what's up with that? I know she's supposed to be a bit crazy, even with her having gone through that ritual to restore her strength and all, but really."

In the dim moonlight, Xander could see the smarter of the two shake his head. "You truly are suicidal aren't you? She's far more powerful than either of us, and don't you think that if Drusilla fears this Green Lady she might actually be dangerous? Spike seems to think so at least."

"Spike! He got himself in a wheelchair fighting with a little girl, it's not like he's a great shining light of a leader either." At that Xander almost started to feel sorry for the vampire. To be born stupid, and then be possessed by a stupid demon as well. What were the chances of that? He'd always figured that knowledge of the Slayer came with the demon, but that obviously wasn't the case here.

"Damn it Tom, don't act so stupid. He fought two Slayers at the same time, and he came out alive. Doesn't that tell you anything?" Spike fought two Slayers simultaneously? They couldn't be talking about that thing during the ritual could they? Because Spike hadn't done all that much fighting there. But maybe the vampire had spun a tale to impress his minions? Yes, that seemed like the kind of thing the blond would do.

The stupid vampire didn't seem to be all that impressed by it either and lit a cigarette while waving off the other's comments. "Yeah, it tells me he wasn't thinking clearly. A Slayer is still only a little girl you know. She may be stronger than even us but she still has a lot of human weaknesses."

Wrinkling his nose as the stench of the cigarette wafted to him, Xander wondered if he should reassess his opinion of the vampire. Maybe it wasn't as stupid as he first thought? But no, that comment probably hadn't been made out of tactical superiority but from ignorant overconfidence.

"Oh yeah, because you'd do so much better than he would. Sometimes I really wonder why I don't just stake you myself." As they passed his position the vampires were far too wrapped up in their conversation to notice him, but he stayed where he was until they were out of sight anyway.

When he walked back to the path however, he could see them again and stopped his movement, while watching as they stood a bit further down the path, silently, and with their heads raised. Either listening to something or sniffing the air—as if they could smell anything other than that filthy cigarette. For a moment he believed they'd spotted him after all, and he got ready to defend himself. He didn't even want to think about what his chances might be in this situation, but he promised himself to take at least one of them down with him.

When they ran off in another direction however, he wasn't quite certain whether that was a good thing or not. His doubts proved justified when he heard a young girl scream for help. Not hesitating a moment, he ran as fast as he could in an attempt to rescue the child.

XXX

Who were these freaks? What did they want from her? For the first time ever Jane was really afraid for her life. Not even Dawn's strange behavior had been this terrifying. Well, she admitted to herself, that might be because she didn't really believe Dawn would actually do anything to her. But these two...

Repeating her earlier action she shouted. "Help! Please, somebody help me!" Her father had taught her how to respond in situations like this, but she had a feeling none of his teachings were going to do any good. Running away had proven to be useless as they caught her within moments, and when she tried to kick them in the groin they caught her leg. She had wrestled it loose, but now she was pinned against a tree, an uncomfortable tree at that.

"Oh, listen to the little bloodbag screaming," one of the two men taunted, while looking her over in a way she didn't like. Getting looks from boys was fine, but from a couple of old perverts?

"What do you want from me?" Were they going to rape her? Kill her? What? With her heart firmly embedded in her throat she tried to think of a way to get out of there.

"Can you smell her fear?" This time it was the other man who spoke. "Isn't it the sweetest aroma you've ever scented?"

Great, what kind of freak was this? An aromaphile? For a moment her fear was forgotten as she tried to classify someone like the man in front of her, a fearophile? What was the Latin name for fear? She couldn't figure it out though, a terrorphile then? Something like a terrorist but one that got off on it? Nah, that didn't sound right. What then?

"Boo!"

"Aaahh!" She jumped back, or tried to at least, while the fear was once again coursing through her body. "Let me go please? I won't even go to the police or tell anyone about it, just let me go."

"See, I told you that'd get the fear back," the first man told the other, who looked a little disgruntled. "Now that we've got that lovely scent back can we eat?"

"Eat?" Jane squeaked, not believing her ears. Part of her, the one that represented the little twelve-year-old girl she was, was hoping that they planned on going for a burger. Unfortunately, the more rational part of her feared the consequences of those words. What if they weren't just aromaphiles, but cannibals as well? Maybe they planned to eat her?

"Yes, eat," she was told by the man, while his face suddenly transformed into that of some kind of horrible monster. Turning to the other she noticed his face looked similar to that of the other and she realized she really was in deep shit.

These creatures weren't human, but as she didn't want to find out what they were, she did something she had told herself she'd never do again. She let out a terrible shriek. In her opinion, a sound like that wasn't supposed to be uttered. Especially after she was told at the tender age of four that it was painful for those who heard it. But this was an emergency and she couldn't care less if it hurt them, she needed to get away from here.

The effect of the shriek however could only be described in terms of its incredible lack of any response. Either she had been better at it when she was four; her mother had lied about the effect; or they were immune to it. Not that it really mattered though; they were still going to eat her. Or, she realized as she noticed the fangs, drink her blood. Jane Nielson, died by vampire. Who would believe such a thing?

The two creatures were bending down to reach her neck now, and, like the Hollywood clichés they were, doing so slowly. Probably because they enjoyed her fear—damned aromaphiles.

Frantically she looked around for a way out, while mentally cursing herself for being close to paralyzed with fear. Was that the kind of rational behavior people'd expect from her? Was that the sort of thing the smart Jane would do? No, she'd have run by now. They were vampires, and despite their obvious advantages over her they were clearly her intellectual inferiors. Only one problem, she told herself, she had no clue what she could do against creatures like this.

Fortunately the answer was provided when one of the vampires suddenly sprouted a tree branch. Sprouted a tree branch? She had to blink before she realized that wasn't quite what had happened. There was indeed a branch sticking out of the vampire's chest, but it hadn't sprouted there. In the dim moonlight she could make out the shadow of a man who was holding the part that wasn't at her side of the vampire. Then, the vampire burst into ashes.

Swaying a little, but swearing to herself that she wouldn't faint, Jane tried to ignore this complete disregard for the laws of nature and looked at the other vampire. The vampire who had suddenly realized that he had lost his friend. Strangely enough though, it—she refused to think of it as a he—didn't really same fazed by it and only took a step back while brushing some non-existent lint from its clothes.

"I knew his overconfidence would be his doom. Poor Tom, killed by a mere human. I have a feeling someone upstairs is laughing about that." It stood there for a moment, its eyes going from her to her rescuer, before it suddenly moved. Closing the distance to her rescuer, with a speed that was abnormal, the vampire obviously tried to kill him.

Maybe he'd get killed by the branch as well, but while thinking that she suddenly noticed the man was no longer holding a branch. Had it turned to dust together with the vampire? But that was unrealistic, things like that couldn't really happen, could they?

Unrealistic or not, there didn't appear to be anything that might stop the vampire. Should she feel bad for causing the death of her rescuer? Especially when she'd probably be the next person to die? But luckily it didn't come to that. At the last possible moment the man pushed something in the face of the vampire, which caused it to back up screaming in pain. Good! Go mysterious rescue guy!

The guy had another branch! He'd probably kept it hidden or something, but now that the vampire was hurting he'd grabbed hold of it and... YES! He staked it! He staked it! This wonderful person had saved her from the evil vampires. Jane stopped herself then, she was a rational young woman, not some hero-worshipping little girl, and she would act like one.

By the time he turned to her, she had composed herself enough to answer him when he spoke. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine, thank you for saving me." There was something familiar about the voice, but she couldn't figure out what.

The man walked a little closer to her, and in the moonlight she could suddenly see his face. "I'm glad I got here in time." Oh... Well, it sure was a good thing she didn't go for the hero-worshipping thing. If she had, she might've been better of being killed by the vampires, because if there was one thing she didn't want to do it was to get between Dawn and the object of her crush. Okay, she had just been saved by Xander Harris someone whose description she had heard far too often over the past two months to mistake for anyone else and she had been saved from vampires.

A sudden horrifying suspicion started to worm its way into her heart. No, she wouldn't would she? Dawn would never hide something like that from them would she? If she knew about vampires she'd tell her friends. But the sudden change in her behavior... Oh yes, that girl had better have a damn good reason for lying to her.

-------------------------

Post-fic comments: Next part on Thursday, and remember: reviewing is NOT a capital crime.

The Unicorn: First, thanks for the review. Now answers to your comments. The sewer practice, okay I have to admit I hadn't really thought of the sound thing there. I simply used the fact that in Noir, they always practiced in the sewers. I'll see what I can do to use that though (for obvious reasons Dawn won't be using the sewers in Sunnydale anyway). The gun on the other I had thought through, both the Glock 26 and 27 (the one she didn't choose) are subcompact guns. The only difference between the two is the size of the bullets (19mm vs .40). For more details you could check the Glock website. It is at the time this story plays probably one of, if not the, best subcompacts in production. Combined with the fact that it would be fairly easy for Dawn to get her hands on this made it the best choice for her gun, at least until she's a bit bigger. And the idea of the Glock 26 came from the fact that the creators of Noir thought about using it as Kirika's gun before they settled on the Beretta M1934, so I cheated a little there :-).


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

It had actually worked; Xander could hardly believe it. He had just dusted two—yes, count 'em, two—vampires, in less than a minute. Now that the adrenaline rush was fading however, he started to wonder how he'd managed to do that. Well no, he knew how he'd done it, but still... It just wasn't something he'd expected to do with such ease; even Buffy often had more trouble with two vampires.

Okay, they hadn't been the brightest bulbs around, or in California for that matter, and he'd taken them by surprise. That reminded him of the girl he'd just saved. Once more turning away from the two piles of dust he focused back on her. Was she still in shock? She appeared to be about Dawn's age, but after telling him she was fine she hadn't said anything. Now, he'd be the first to admit that he didn't understand girls, but he'd at least expected her to ask the usual questions.

But she was just standing there, resting against the tree, while the wind was messing up her hair. Getting a little worried about her, he repeated his earlier question. "Are you sure you're alright?"

"What?" the girl asked, obviously having been shocked out of her thoughts. "I ah, yeah, I'm okay."

Well, she didn't look hurt or anything so she might be telling the truth. He wasn't a psychiatrist who could determine her mental state, but with a little luck she'd have forgotten about it by tomorrow. "Can I walk you home?"

Again his question seemed to interrupt her thoughts. "That'd be great. Thanks."

"No problem, my name is Xander by the way."

"Jane." A little curt wasn't she? Well, you could never really predict how people would react to the existence of vampires. But still, he was sure that by now Dawn would've been blathering. Although... Dawn had changed after finding out about the real world as well, she had become quieter and more introspective, maybe this girl was the same.

But even now, after he'd offered to walk her home, she wasn't moving. Instead she continued staring into the darkness of the night, and he rather doubted she was doing so because she enjoyed the night air. Was she thinking about what just happened? Well, he couldn't blame her for that, but still... It would be so much easier for him if she'd just do the denial thing and forget anything strange had happened.

"So, where do you live?"

Still distracted by whatever thoughts she had, she only waved one of her hands in the direction he'd just come from. "Over there."

Okay, well he wasn't about to leave the little girl alone no matter the risks for himself, so he'd already resigned himself to a walk like that; but was it too much to ask for some good directions? "Could you perhaps, you know, be a bit more specific?" Oh, yeah. Way to go Xander, kick the little girl while she's down.

Fortunately, the girl hadn't noticed his very wrong comment. "T-they can be killed with wood, right? Does it really have to be in the heart?" For the first time, the girl looked him in the eyes, and while her tone of voice was almost perfectly normal—a little more so than he'd expected actually—the look in her eyes belied that normality. Jane was obviously scared out of her wits.

"Uh, what?" Scared or not, he still needed to know what she was talking about.

"You put something in its face, right? What was that? A cross?"

Oh, that's what she was talking about. "Uh yeah, a normal cross."

"Is that because of the religious thing? Or because of the wood? But like I asked, doesn't that need to be in the heart?"

"I think it's because of the religious thing. And yes, they need to be staked in the heart. But why are you asking this?"

The look she sent in his direction was so close to the one that Dawn used whenever Buffy said something silly that it was freaky, and a little insulting actually. But when the girl started talking again he paid closer attention to her tone of voice, and this time Xander thought he could detect a hint of panic in it. "They were vampires, weren't they? What d'ya think I'm gonna do? Pretend that they like, don't exist or something? I need to know how to protect myself. I can't let this happen again. I just can't." The last part was almost whispered as she once again stared into space, reliving those terrible moments.

"You want to fight them?" The slight insult could be ignored, as could the fact that she obviously wasn't going to take the easy way out. But he was with Giles on this—little girls shouldn't fight vampires.

"What are you? Crazy, or something? If even half of what's said about vampires is true, they'd kill me in a couple of seconds," Jane answered, still in that barely contained voice. But the talking was probably needed to stop her from flipping out completely, so he had no intention of stopping the conversation.

"That's good." Running his fingers through his hair, Xander felt relieved. At least about the not fighting part, the rest of it was still as difficult as it had been minutes earlier. Why didn't girls like her come with a manual? It would've made this whole thing a lot easier, and, now that he thought about it, his conversations with Dawn as well. Why did he keep thinking about Dawn? He shrugged it off, maybe Jane reminded him of the girl that had a crush on him. As long as that wasn't repeated he'd be fine. One twelve-year-old with a crush he might be able to handle, two would really be pushing it.

"That doesn't mean I don't want to know how to defend myself against them. A repeat of tonight isn't exactly what I'm looking for, y'know," Jane said. "So, what else works against them?"

"Shouldn't we go to your house first? There might be more around."

"Oh yeah," Jane suddenly realized they weren't exactly in a safe spot. Before she spoke again, the girl hesitated however. "Ehm, I don't think I'd like to go through the park though."

"Why don't we walk around it? Just to be safe."

"Yeah, that'd be okay, I guess." After that hesitating answer she started talking in a more upbeat voice however. "So does garlic work? Or is that just something Hollywood came up with? I've been meaning to read Dracula for a while now, but I never got around to it. Oh, and the mirror thing is that true? Because it would go against the laws of nature, as everything is supposed to have a reflection, what with the way light reflects and all. Oh, light. Does sunlight really hurt them? Is that like an extreme reaction to ultraviolet radiation or something? Wouldn't sunscreen work for them then?"

Xander tried to answer the girl's questions, he really did. Well at first at least. But apparently she'd come out of her shock and decided to ramble on, and on, and on, and on, and...

XXX

"But I still don't understand how they could've turned into dust like that. I mean, it might make some sense if time suddenly caught up with them or something. But from the way they dressed they couldn't have died before the eighties at the most, probably even later than that. I'd have to ask Sara about it, she knows more about fashion than I do. But why did they dust?" Taking a short break to breathe in some of the cold night air, Jane prepared for her next torrent of words. She didn't really need any answers right now; what she wanted was something to distract her from the two revelations this night had brought.

Vampires were real. It didn't really make any sense, according to everything she'd ever heard or read that was supposed to be impossible. But that wasn't the real problem, after all, she believed in the scientific method. If the laws she knew were incorrect in explaining the real world, they were wrong, and others needed to be found. However, the other revelation was the one that hurt. She'd turned it over and over in her head, while standing there in the park, but she couldn't come up with another explanation.

Dawn had lied to her. Her best friend had lied to her and, unless Sara was in on it, to her other best friend as well. That meant the golden rule had been broken—the three of them weren't supposed to lie to each other, about anything. But it had happened, and in order to bury her pain at this betrayal she needed to be distracted. Other things could wait until she was able to deal with them.

"And talking about dusting, why is wood lethal to them? Is lethal actually the right word by the way? What with them already being dead and all," she trailed off as she suddenly realized they had reached her home. "Oh, look. We're home already."

"Oh, really?" Her poor rescuer looked relieved, and, well, she couldn't exactly blame him could she? She'd talked so much that her mouth felt dry, but if she stopped talking even for a moment, she'd think. And thinking was bad right now, as it reminded her of whose Christmas present Xander might've been.

"Yeah, come on. You can talk to my mom and dad," Jane said, while starting to drag Xander up the front path to her house.

"What? I could just leave you know. I don't think there's any reason for your parents to meet me." Yes there was, if she didn't have any proof of what had happened they might not believe her and leave her to think about things.

"Yes you do, they'll want to thank you for rescuing me."

"But..." Xander's protests came too late however as Jane had already pushed the doorbell and could hear someone approaching the door.

"Jane? Why didn't you use your key? And who's this?" Her mother asked, probably a little confused about the situation.

First rule in getting something from your parents; make them want to give it to you. "Mama!" Jane wailed, while throwing herself into her mother's embrace.

"Jane?" the woman asked, before turning her attention to Xander. "What did you do to her?"

"I didn't-" But Jane had no intention of letting the boy concoct a story. This was her family—things would go the way she wanted them to.

So she wailed again. "He saved me!"

"Saved you? From what? I'm sorry I accused you, why don't you come in where you can explain what's going on?"

"But I-"

"You didn't intend to leave without at the very least an explanation of what happened to my daughter did you?" See? Her mother was the best when it came to manipulation—in fact, the woman had probably already seen through her behavior.

"No, of course not. But-" Xander sounded more and more desperate, but, while Jane did feel a little guilty about what she was doing to him, she deemed it was necessary.

"Good, come in then." And the three of them walked into the living room, where she could see her father putting down the book he'd been reading.

Not waiting even a moment, she let go of her mother and ran into the comforting embrace of her father. A place she'd always felt safe from the monsters that shouldn't have existed. "Daddy!"

"Jane? What's going on? And Xander, what are you doing here?" He knew Xander? How could her father possibly know him?

Apparently her mother had the same thought. "You know him?"

"Yes, one of the men at the range brought him along today, to teach him how to use a gun. But what's going on? Why is Jane crying?"

Okay, time to interfere again before someone said the wrong thing. "Two men-," she started sniffling and had to start over.

"Two men attacked me on my way home from Sara. They scared me. I was afraid they'd try to kidnap me, or worse."

Everything else her parents could have been thinking about was forgotten, as they let out cries of sorrow and pain. "No! Oh, you poor girl." As her mother joined the embrace she started to feel even more safe and loved than she'd felt in the embrace of a single parental unit. And as the comforting continued she slowly started to feel better, as the fear she hadn't realized she was still feeling started to leave her body.

"But you got away, didn't you?" Her ever-practical father then asked.

Here it was, the chance to tell everything about what had really happened, but she stayed with the decision she'd taken earlier. No use in telling the whole truth, just enough that her parents had a good idea of what had happened.

"They had me trapped, I was really scared but I tried to fight them. It didn't work though, nothing you taught me worked against them," she hugged her father tighter. Then, to illustrate her next point, she pointed her finger at Xander. "But Xander came, and after he fought with them they disappeared."

"Thank you," her mother whispered to her rescuer, while continuing to caress her face.

"Yes, I don't know how we can ever repay you," her father added.

"Oh, no repaying needed." The poor boy really sounded distraught, and she had the nagging suspicion that he'd never really been thanked for anything. Well, while she needed him for a little distraction, she had no intention of letting him go away without anything that indicated how grateful she was to him for saving her life.

And from the short knowing looks her parents exchanged, Jane knew they had similar thoughts about that.

"I'm afraid you won't be able to escape that, young man. We are after all very grateful that you saved our daughter." Go mom! Make sure he gets his due.

"But really, there's no need-"

Once again he was cut off – this time by her father. "No arguments please, we'll do it anyway and I don't want you to distress Jane anymore. Why don't we talk about it while I drive you home?"

"You don't need to drive me home," Xander tried to protest, even though he had to know that he was fighting a losing battle.

"Nonsense, you must've gone out of your way to bring Jane here. I'll take you home," her father stated, in a tone Jane recognized as the one that made sure he'd get what he wanted.

XXX

As Dawn was walking through the shopping district looking for the presents she never got around to buying, a part of her was busy working on a very different matter. She hadn't expected to be immediately proficient in her use of the gun, but still, those first shots had scared her. She knew that her small gun didn't have that much recoil, but her weak body still had some trouble with it. Not to mention that practicing in the sewers here wasn't a very good idea anyway.

Compared to the sewers underneath Paris, these were cramped. Something that made using a gun inside them rather problematic. She didn't know if the loud noise was because of that size, or if it was another thing to blame on her body, but for once she had decided to give her body the benefit of the doubt. Unfortunately, she didn't have much choice concerning places where she could practice.

When her ears had actually started hurting though, she had continued her practice while using a silencer. That might not be very good for the silencer, but she had a couple of spares; something she couldn't say about her ears. But even that hadn't immediately improved her shooting as at first practically every shot had gone wide; her pathetically weak body hadn't been able to handle even the recoil of a small gun like hers.

It had taken most of Saturday, as big a portion of Sunday as she dared without arousing her father's suspicions, about half of the bullets she'd bought, and far too many painful muscles to reach even a barely acceptable level. But in the end she reached it. And the flaws that were still there would be fixed after a little more training, both physically and practice, so that shouldn't be a problem either.

Shouldn't. A great word, and unfortunately far too accurate in this case. Shouldn't wasn't the word that really belonged in that sentence. The right word would've been wouldn't, but she had already realized the big mistake she'd made on Saturday. She had been so focused on acquiring the weapons she needed that she hadn't really noticed the mess she'd made of her financial status.

The money she'd taken from Ethan's had been mixed up with whatever pocket money she still had left from before her grounding, and she'd spent most of it. So, now she was looking for gifts that she couldn't possibly afford. Gifts that she really needed to bring back to Sunnydale, both because it would stave off irritating questions, and, she realized with as much surprise as she was capable of feeling, because she wanted to buy them.

She, Noir, the terror of the underworld, the Grim Reaper, the thousand-year-darkness, wanted to buy presents for her friends. That had to be an aspect of the Dawn personality that obviously still had some influence, despite not being in control anymore. Or was it? Trailing to a halt outside a bakery she suddenly realized she was hungry, and besides, that question was ridiculous. It had already been proven that Dawn was too weak on her own, and needed her and the others to stay sane.

Digging into her pockets she took out the money she had left, and looked sadly at the few bills she had. It was barely enough to buy one present, let alone the minimum of four she needed. Five—she had to buy something for her father as well. Didn't she? Yes, she did, it would look far too strange if she didn't, even after he blew up at her. So, she needed more money, and she knew how to get it—but she wasn't ready for that.

Standing there staring at the money in her hand she probably made a strange sight, but as this was California barely anyone even noticed it. She stood there for several long minutes, trying to decide one way or another, until her stomach reminded her that she was indeed standing in front of a place that sold food. Walking inside she bought something to eat, but with her mind still churning things over she never really found out what it was that she bought. She was pretty sure she'd even paid for the food, but couldn't remember doing that either.

And so, within minutes, she was on the move again, walking past shops that sold the things everybody thought she'd come here for, but without paying any attention to them. She had a choice that needed to be made, and while mechanically eating whatever it was that she'd just bought, she tried to come to a decision. There wasn't much she could choose between though. Risk her life, or her cover.

What would the consequences of either choice be? Returning without any gifts would risk her cover. And were she to try a mission, it would surely cost her whatever innocence she had left. That thought finally managed to shake her from the strange state she was in. Since when did she care about her innocence? She had killed countless people; the young; the old; the weak; the strong; the innocent; and the guilty. Alright, in her current body she hadn't killed all that many, and one of them had been an accident.

But even that wasn't clear-cut—in her dreams she had killed countless more. Her dreams... Whoever sent them to her obviously wasn't deterred by the fact that she was now in Los Angeles. Last night she'd once again awoken after having been in the middle of a strange battlefield, one that was in a world where she had a different background. Where people knew who and what she was, and where she had actually been doing good.

Fresh scars had been present when she awoke, but like always they hadn't really mattered. That world, it had been so strange, and she fervently hoped that if it was real, it was at the very least an alternate reality. Because she really didn't want to discover that was the future of this planet. Luck was the only reason she had still been alive at the time her dream took place. Well... Luck and a healthy dose of survival instincts that had proven useful even against the robots sent to kill her.

No, once she was home she was going to do two searches on the internet. She'd try to find out if there was a project called Skynet, and if anyone named John Connor existed. If the world from her dream was the real one, well, what did she care whether the future would remain intact or not? If killing everyone connected to that project would ensure that her mother and sister wouldn't be nuked to death, it was a very small price to pay.

XXX

He had been so shocked the night before, both by the fact that he'd managed to so easily kill those two vampires, and the way everybody had reacted, that Xander had momentarily forgotten something important. It was only the next day that he remembered—after he'd woken up in what was still definitely the wrong place. While he still needed to talk to someone about the soldier thing, the intel he'd gathered the night before was important as well.

Intel? Was he starting to think like the soldier as well now? Did actually making use of the skills have that much of an effect on him? He really didn't like that, did he? His eyes widened at that ridiculous thought. Was he having conversations with himself now? Of course he didn't like it when someone messed with his mind.

But that hadn't been the most important thing; he really did have information the others needed to hear, so he'd called them all. Not that that action had endeared him to them, in fact Giles had been the only one who'd even shown a bit of civility. Okay, he should have remembered that not everybody was awake at half past six, but they really hadn't needed to bite his head off like that either.

And figuring they all needed some time before they'd arrive, he was surprised to find not only Giles already in the library when he arrived, but Buffy and Willow as well. "Hey guys."

"Xander, what was so important that you had to drag me out of bed for it in the middle of the night?" Buffy asked, still a little grouchy from a lack of sleep. But she had obviously believed him enough to come here despite that. And it was that sort of action that showed him that his friends appreciated his input, even when they didn't like the timing.

"Yes Xander, please tell us," Giles added his two cents, while sitting down at the table with the cup of tea he'd just made.

And of course, his favorite Willow had to chirp in as well. "Hi Xander." Short, but she probably figured the others had already asked what she wanted to know.

"Okay, straight to business it is then. But are you sure you don't want to wake up a bit more? You know, maybe do some exercises, or drink some coffee?"

"Xander," Buffy growled, obviously not amused by his antics. "I was sleeping very nicely when you called me. You do realize this is the last day before Dawn gets back, don't you? That means that it's also about the last day of my life that I can enjoy some peace and quiet in my own house."

"Oh, Buffy, she isn't that bad, is she?" Willow wanted to know.

A sigh, a deep sigh actually, followed that statement. "Wills, you know I love you right? You're my best friend and all, but you're a single child and couldn't possibly imagine the horror that is a little sister. The best days of my life are when she's not here, or grounded, since she actually was quiet during that time as well."

"Oh, she just never, you know, seemed that bad to me," Willow answered in a small voice, apparently as unsure about where that had come from as he was.

Buffy just sighed again, before letting her head drop down to the table. "Okay, I guess that came out totally wrong. It's not that I don't like her, but it's... Oh forget it, I'm just pissed because I wanted to sleep in. Now, Xander, talk."

Okay, she was obviously a little more awake now, and Xander had to suppress a smile about the way his friend had tried, and failed, to subtly change the subject. "Sure. It's like this. I was out last night, walking home through the park. Yes, I know I should've walked around it, but that doesn't matter." He didn't feel like getting lectured about that.

"Anyway, while I was walking I heard voices behind me, and, figuring they were vamps, I hid." Realizing that sounded rather pathetic, he altered the story a bit. "Ah, to try and listen what they were talking about of course. So, while I was listening to them they were having a discussion. Most of the stuff they talked about we already knew, like that Spike can't walk and that Drusilla's in charge now.

"But there was also something new. It seems that Drusilla is afraid of something in Sunnydale." And leaning back into his chair, he waited for that bombshell to get through to their fuzzy brains. He had actually debated telling them that he'd staked the vampires as well, but had finally figured that it wasn't that important. Buffy dusted more of them every night, so why would they care if he took out another two? There were thousands more to go.

"T-They really said that Drusilla was afraid of something?" Giles asked him, obviously surprised by that.

"You mean there's actually something that can scare that psycho?" was what Buffy wanted to know, and Willow, ever practical, asked the question that was of course the most important.

"What is she afraid of then?"

"That's sorta the problem, I don't really know." Seeing them open their mouths he waved them shut, and was slightly surprised when it worked. "Oh, they named it, or her, the Green Lady, but I don't have a clue what, or who, that is. Which, of course, is the reason I asked you here. All-knowing G-man, do you know what it is?"

Giles was obviously deep in thought about whatever it could be, but before he could say anything Buffy had suddenly made a connection he hadn't figured out yet. "Green? Like in the green thingie that killed Angel in my dream?"

Oh yeah, wow, something that was good for two reasons. No Xander, Angel is on your side, remember. And besides, you've got Cordy now and don't need to feel bad about Deadboy getting the girl. "Uh, I don't know. Could be."

"Quite, you might very well be right about that connection Buffy. And as we now have a name to work with, we might be able to find out some more about this Green Lady." Giles said, while polishing his glasses.

Buffy suddenly seemed to realize where this was actually leading to, and was, since she was as fond of research as he was, looking for an excuse to get out. Unfortunately for both of them, none presented itself. And while Xander had resigned himself to spending his first real day of the break immersed in the books, he too had to stop a sigh of despair from escaping his lips.

Never let it be said that saving the world was boring. After all, in between the long hours of research there was actually time to do... Yes, even more research. Taking the book Giles handed him, Xander wondered once again why anyone would actually want to do this whole world saving thing. If he hadn't known a little about the place, he would've said that research was as boring as hell.

Unfortunately of course, the problem was that hell wasn't boring. But that kind of thing wasn't what he was supposed to think about, so he devoted his attention to the boring words—probably written in a boring time, by a boring priest who died in a boring way.

XXX

Okay, she was back. Dawn looked at the entrance of the alley she knew would lead her to the part of the city that would allow her to earn money. Not that she was really convinced this was her best option, but still...

Had she been anyone else, she would most likely have taken a deep breath before stepping into the alley, but there was no reason here to pretend she was anybody else. So, she took the path that would, undoubtedly, end up leading to her doom with the same lack of expression that had characterized her earlier journey there. With the only exception being that this time she wasn't here to buy something, but to offer her, or as far as anyone would know, her boss', services.

As Dawn walked through this part of the city, looking for Dave, she noticed that her reputation had preceded her already. Twice, a gang member had headed her way, only to be stopped by one of his friends. They looked perplexed when they actually backed off, obviously not really believing that a little girl like her could take down Tony's bruisers. But while they might not really believe, they didn't bother her either. Which was a very good thing for them, as she had no intention of fooling around. She was armed with decent weapons this time, and if anyone would have actually disregarded the warnings, they might not have survived.

But that still didn't tell her where Dave was, and she reckoned that while she could keep on walking around, that probably wouldn't do her any good. So, she needed to ask someone. But who? According to the boy everybody knew him, but that didn't say much and might just have been the usual grandstanding boys were prone to.

On the other hand, if he had been telling the truth that meant she could ask anyone. Which in turn meant that she might as well put that statement to the test. Asking one of the gangs would mean they'd think that she was dealing from a position of weakness, and she couldn't afford that with those people. She might be able to hit what she aimed for in a practice situation, but, despite her experience, she doubted that would be the case in an actual fight.

Why she still decided to do a mission was therefore almost incomprehensible to her, but she simply didn't have a choice. But if she couldn't ask people on the streets, that only left entering a building and asking her questions there. The unsavory looks of the houses around her didn't really inspire confidence in actually acquiring the information she needed, but, as with the mission thing, her choices were rather limited.

. . . .

The building she eventually decided on was a bar, the sign was partly faded, but she could still make out part of the name. _The Corsican_ something. Corsica, birthplace of Mireille. Shaking of the unwanted memories she focused back on the building. Well, a name like that could only be a good sign, couldn't it?

Opening the door she smelled the expected mix of alcohol, tobacco, and other substances she'd rather not identify. It looked like a fairly typical bar where the underworld could go about their business in neutral territory. The tables were spaced far enough from each other to make listening in fairly difficult, and at the back were a couple of screened spaces as well. Yep, she had been right, the ideal place to do business while enjoying a drink.

And, naturally, a place where nobody expected to see a little girl walking in, looking as if she didn't have a care in the world. Well, if it was that kind of place, why wouldn't she enter just like that? Ignoring the strange looks from the customers, she immediately went to the normal place for information. The bar. Of course, it would have been nice if it wasn't almost as high as she was, but appearance wasn't that important anyway.

Unfortunately, the barman had other ideas about that. "What's a little girl like you want here?"

"Information."

The burly man had to grin about that, he really wasn't taking her serious was he? "Hey guys, the little one wants some info. Wanna help me out here?"

Immediately one of the guests spoke up. "Sure thing Fred, what does she want?"

"Directions to her nursery?" a second one answered.

As the laughter broke out behind her, Dawn remained stoic. It didn't matter what these people thought of her, she didn't care how they tried to make fun of her. She wouldn't be embarrassed, embarrassment only happened when you let it, so she had two choices; play along, or ignore it.

The Dawn personality would probably have played along, that she was pretty sure of, but the Kirika one that was in charge didn't know how to do that. Therefore she just ignored it, and waited until the barman once again focused on her. "Move along kiddo, there's nothing for you here. In fact, from what I can see of you this isn't the sort of neighborhood you should hang around in."

As if she could be so easily deterred. "I need information."

"Kid, you don't want any of the information anyone here could give you. Go home and play with your dolls. The best you could get here is being paid for spreading your legs, and I really doubt you'd want that. Now, shoo." He waved his arms to indicate she should leave.

Why did everybody keep underestimating her? Hadn't they learned that you shouldn't judge a book by its cover? Obviously not, now then what else could she do? The violent route was still open, but in here that option was even worse than against one of the street gangs. There was no place she could stand without people being able to come at her from behind. In the end she simply decided to ask her question. "I'm looking for Dave, a kid, about fourteen years old, claims everybody knows him."

Silence, utter silence was what greeted that statement. Where before people had been talking, they had all stopped doing so and were now openly checking her out. Not in the same way some of them had when she entered, no, these were assessments of her skills, attempts to understand how she had been able to deal with the bruisers.

"You're the kid that beat up Paul and Stan," one of the men behind her stated.

"Yes," Dawn answered, without bothering to turn around.

"They're friends of mine."

"I'm sure the hospital has visiting hours." She had no intention of starting an argument, but if the guy wanted one, well... She'd definitely be the one to finish it.

But no, she realized that the tone of his voice wasn't that of someone bent on revenge. While there was danger, it wasn't coming from this man. Raising her eyes to the mirror behind the barman, she studied the people sitting at their tables, waiting for her target to make his move.

When it happened it was clumsy, a desperate attempt by an incapable amateur. It was almost an insult to watch how the man drew his gun, but the insult was lessened by the fact that he apparently believed a gun was necessary to deal with her. There were two ways this could go now, she either ended it immediately or it would become an all-out bar-brawl.

An object lesson was required; a single action that clearly told everybody it was unwise to try anything. It had to be fast, skillful, and, most of all, brutal. Those were the thoughts that flashed through her head, and as she turned around to face him her plan was ready. She couldn't risk anything with her gun, she just wasn't comfortable enough with it yet, which left the only ranged weapon she had been able to practice these past months.

Her right hand disappeared in the sleeve of her left arm and, before anyone could actually see what she took hold of, the small throwing knife was flying through the air. The only thing that she'd had to really think about during this whole encounter was whether or not to kill the guy. It was an object lesson though, and people more readily remembered things when the person they happened to was still alive.

So when the knife reached its target, the man let out a cry of pain and while going to his knees, cradled the hand holding his gun. The gun that couldn't be fired, because it had a small knife lodged in between the grip and the trigger. A knife that had also penetrated his index finger, which wasn't in too good a shape anymore either.

Once again silence reigned in the bar, until one of the guests started laughing and was quickly joined by most of the others. "Hey kid, you're alright you know that."

"Yeah girlie, that was fun." It had worked, these people accepted her now in a way that she needed. Of course, she wasn't ready yet.

"Good, now then. Can I have my knife back?" This was the part where she was taking the greatest risk. Ignoring everything hadn't worked earlier, so now it was time for option number two. Have the Dawn personality wrap these criminals around her finger; it wasn't something she wasn't capable of doing, but it would mean opening herself up. How would that weak personality react? Would she be terrified, or would she be able to go through with what needed to be done?

"You want your knife back?"

"Of course, I paid for it y'know." Oh god, what was she doing here?

One of the men started sniggering, but answered her anyway. "You've got balls kid, I've got to admit that. You've got quite a pair of balls."

"Really?" Dawn raised her eyebrow, hoping none of these thugs realized that all she wanted to do was run away as fast as her legs could carry her. "I've gotta admit that I didn't notice them last time I took a shower."

"Oh yeah, I was right. You're alright kid. As quick with your mouth as with your weapons. You'll do well out here," one of the men that had spoken earlier said. "Let me buy you a drink, what d'ya want? Chocolate milk?"

Chocolate milk? How old did he think she was? Five? "A nice red wine will do."

A questioning eyebrow was raised at that, and she had to admit she wasn't really certain about it either. She had never really drunk alcohol, and while Kirika used to drink in her own body, Dawn wasn't sure if she could handle it. But ordering a non-alcoholic drink might ruin everything she'd just accomplished. "Of course, Fred?"

"One red wine coming up."

"Perfect," the man smiled at her, before turning around and walking to her downed target. "How are you doing, Kyle?"

"That bitch hurt me, and I'm gonna kill her." Was he now? Oh well, people who made that kind of statement before disappearing from the face of the world were good object lessons as well. Had she just thought that? That was the kind of thing one of the other personalities might have come up with, not her.

"Don't be ridiculous Kyle. She's way better than you."

"I'm gonna waste her Neil, and there ain't nothing you can do to stop me." Someone was threatening to kill her... Dawn started to realize she might really be in trouble with the injured guy, but she couldn't let that stop her now. One wrong move and it wouldn't matter what that guy planned to do, she'd be dead already.

"Oh well," Neil said, before bending even closer and ripping the knife out of Kyle's finger, aggravating the injury and causing the man to cry out again. When he returned with it to her, the wine had arrived as well, but she let him talk before trying it. "Some fools just don't know when to quit, do they? Here's your knife, you might want to clean it first though."

"You mean you won't do that for little ol' me?"

"Don't push it girlie." Ah, so there were limits to what she could get away with. Sipping the wine she resisted the urge to make a face at the sour drink. Either she really wasn't used to the taste anymore, or she had just received a glass of the worst vintage in existence.

"Now, what do I owe this drink to?" Time to do what she had been called for.

"Like I said, you're alright. And when I meet someone I like to find out a little more about them."

"So this is out of the kindness of your heart?"

He snorted at that, the response she figured he would expect her to expect. Man, this was getting complicated. "Hardly. Like I said, I want information."

"When it comes to that, you're not the only one."

"Well, I'm sure you'll get your information once I've found out a little more about you." She felt a fake smile appear on her face, and the Dawn personality retract, when everything about this clicked. It was so obvious, the suddenly nice man, the free drink, and his difficulty in stopping himself from asking her to drink faster. She wasn't sure if it was the reason for the bad taste of the wine as well, but it was pretty obvious it contained sodium pentathol.

"This isn't going to work, y'know." She was in full control again, and had no more need for social niceties. If they didn't play nice, neither would she.

"What isn't?" Neil tried to salvage the situation.

"Be like that, I'm not really thirsty anymore though. Would you like to finish my drink?"

"Nah, wine ain't exactly my thing."

"That's too bad, oh well. You can't have everything, can you?" And in a way that looked perfectly normal, and accidental, she dropped her nearly full glass to the floor. It might not contain a truth serum after all; maybe they had only been after her fingerprints. Not that it mattered, they wouldn't get anything now. "Oops, sorry 'bout that."

Stepping forward, she crushed the remaining bits of glass into even smaller parts, before repeating her earlier question. "But I'm not here for chitchat; I want to know where Dave is. And from your earlier reactions, you all know who he is, and probably even where he is."

Fred spoke up then, obviously not really happy about the thing with the glass, but more than willing to get rid of her. "Yes, we know Dave. But rumor has it that he's in trouble."

Now, why didn't that surprise her? "In trouble how?"

"He went where he shouldn't go, he tried to find out things that he shouldn't know. It's always the same with him. Except that this time, they figure he has some info on you. And that is why they haven't let him off with a beating."

"They're keeping him somewhere, until I go and rescue him?" That was ridiculous, what kind of moron came up with that plan? Part of her was already busy figuring out how to find someone who could replace Dave, but then the Dawn part of her became more pronounced.

She had to help him. What? Dawn wondered why the fate of a single person was suddenly important enough for the original her to make an appearance this strong. In fact, she had to fight to retain control over the body. A fight that she couldn't win, as the other her knew it far better. The fight was short, but that was mainly because the other subsided. Unfortunately the message was clear—she could lose the body anytime. And if she didn't help Dave that was exactly what would happen.

"Fine," she bit out, allowing some emotion to come forward. If that's what needed to be done to remain in charge here, that's what would happen. And the fools that thought to stand against her would learn why that was their stupidest idea ever. Raising her eyes to look Fred straight in the face, she asked him. "Who has him, and where do they keep him?"

Maybe they even had some money; that would spare her the trouble of looking for a mission that could be done tonight. But she could think about that later, as Fred had started talking about her latest targets.

---------------------

Post-fic comments: Okay people, first of all I hope you liked this chapter as well and thank you all for reviewing the others. It's always nice to see people enjoy the story enough to take the time to send feedback.  
On another note, the next chapter will of course arrive in two days, Saturday, but... (yes, there's a but). There are two versions of that chapter. The original version I wrote, and the one that I toned down a little. According to my beta the violence in the original was at least R-rated.  
Now then, I'll post the PG-13 version here, but on the DawnHalloween group (link is in my profile) I'll also post the other one. The plot is the same, everything that happens is the same, the only difference is the description of those events. You can all decide for yourself which one you'll read, but I don't want to post the same story twice here so you'll have to go elsewhere for the harder version.  
Anyway, now we'll go on to the replies on feedback.

The Unicorn: Will you believe that I actually knew the 9mm bit? Can I blame the typo on being a bit busy while I wrote it? Anyway, I didn't know how big .40 actually was, so thanks for that info. I have used some of your comments about the sewers in this chapter (see? Sending feedback works.), but I'll have to think about where I'll let her practice in Sunnydale. The sewers are out, both because of the reasons you gave and the fact that they're inhabited, and, while it would make a nice scene, I don't see Dawn walking into the firing range anytime soon.  
Making her own bullets, it's a thought. I don't know how they got their bullets in Noir, but I'm pretty sure her training covered making them. Of course, how she'd go about that would be a bit hard. Dawn might be able to hide a gun in her room, but if she kept equipment there for making bullets... Well, I think Joyce would start asking some very uncomfortable questions.  
Xander's martial arts. Well, he only has the memories of the soldier, so he's not a martial artist. I did remember the U.S. Military has its own style, but I wasn't sure how much that differed from a normal one. I'll see how I'll handle that part, but as it doesn't interfere with this story I'll probably do some research first.

physicsteach: Thanks for pointing out the problems. Okay, the OOC-ness; at the moment Dawn isn't really in charge of her own body. Sure, she has some input, as could be seen in this chapter, but she's still coming to terms with everything that she's done, and while doing that she is hiding a little from the real world. That will become less so in the future stories, as the personalities continue to merge, and I hope I'll get her more like the Dawn from the show.  
Xander, I think I got him better in this chapter, even though there were only a couple of scenes with him. But I'll try to do better anyway. And with the comma's; I'm trying, and it's getting better, but it's something I have some trouble with.

jen30: I think that's a first, a review on a chapter someone hadn't completely read yet. :-) Okay, the twenty years thing probably was originally a reference to Dark Angel, but as I decided that world won't be showing up in an UC fic, but actually gets its own series, that's no longer the case. So, it was a generic twenty years in the future dream...  
And does Dawn still feel the same way as toward the end of Dark, Darker,...? I wasn't entirely sure what you meant, about Cordelia or just generally, but the answers are the same. Yes, she still feels the same, she's not happy with Cordy for stealing Xander from her and Kirika is still more or less in command of her body.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

Jane wasn't a happy girl. Even now, the day after it happened, she was still scared. In fact, she had a feeling it might be a while before she got entirely over the events of the previous night. And that was just plain ridiculous. She was an intelligent person; surely she should be able to control her own unfounded fears. Sure, she had been attacked by a couple of mythical beings, but still... This was going too far.

Once again she stood up, only to pace around her room some more. How do you deal with irrational fears? A dim memory, of an article that she read maybe a year before, reared its head. Okay, you can deal with irrational fears by facing them. Which meant that was not the solution she was looking for. She might not want to be afraid of vampires, but that didn't mean she was willing to voluntarily face one either.

There had to be another way to get over her fear. Because this was getting really silly, she'd even slept with the light in the hallway on. As if that was the kind of light that could stop the creatures. She was starting to crack here, and she had the urge to call Dawn and demand an explanation. Yes, that was exactly what she needed to do.

No, it wasn't. Dawn had lied to her, and that lie had endangered her life. Okay, she admitted to herself, that wasn't really true. But the other girl had still lied to her, and now she was pacing here in her room, terrified of even stepping outside. Why was it so much worse now? That wasn't normal was it? Or was she actually suffering from something like PTSD? Nah, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder surely needed a lot more than this.

But she was still too afraid to leave her room, let alone get out of the house, and she was sure her parents had noticed that by now. Before long they'd probably come to ask questions she really didn't want to answer. Or maybe they'd even want her to go to a psychiatrist—yes; that was the kind of thing they'd do. Because no matter how well-intended their attempts to help her would be, they'd undoubtedly figure that a professional would be able to do more for her.

She didn't want to go to a psychiatrist! If she told the truth she'd probably be locked up in some kind of nuthouse or something, and she didn't want that to happen. But she was so scared. Sinking down to her knees, she let out the tears that she'd felt prickling in her eyes for the past hour.

"Why is the world so unfair?" she sniffed, tasting the salty tears that continued to stream down her face.

"That's just the way it is, honey."

"Daddy!" She hadn't heard him come in, and quickly she tried to wipe away the tears in an attempt to hide them. Her father caught her hand though, and instead showed her the handkerchief he was holding.

"Here, let me." And, for the first time since she was able to wipe her own nose, she allowed her father to clean her face. "There, that's better isn't it?"

All she could do was nod, her daddy was here again. Surely he would make everything right again. No he wouldn't. He couldn't do anything unless she told him about the vampires and she couldn't do that. Her father was a good man, and she loved him dearly, but like her he believed that the world was rational, and everything about the world said that vampires couldn't possibly exist. He'd never believe her, and instead figure it was a what-do-you-call-it, a substitute or something for what had really happened. A way to make herself believe it couldn't be real.

Was that what had happened? No, it couldn't be. She'd seen them with her own eyes, and Xander had been far too evasive about certain things for her to have imagined it all. It had been real, but she couldn't tell her family about it. Was that why Dawn hadn't told them? No, that didn't matter. The three of them could tell each other everything, even if it was something that sounded as ridiculous as vampires.

"Oh daddy, I'm so scared," Jane wailed again as she buried herself even deeper in his embrace. Her whole world was so messed up right now; she needed something solid that could ground her. Listen to that, she almost sounded like Dawn with her grounding. Hey, was that her reason as well? Had Dawn simply reacted differently than her? Not showing anyone how scared she was, but instead hiding the fear beneath a thin veneer of violence?

That did make a twisted sort of sense, but she had a feeling there was more to it. But why couldn't she think straight? Why was she so scared about what had happened? She needed a distraction, something that stopped her from constantly thinking about what had happened.

"Shh, it's alright baby. You're safe now." How could she be safe when there were monsters walking around in the night?

"Daddy," she said while squeezing her eyes tightly shut. Nobody was allowed to look in her eyes and see the horror depicted there.

"Jane, I'm so sorry I wasn't there to help you last night." He shouldn't be feeling sorry; it wasn't his fault after all. Yeah right, like he'd believe that. She had been so immersed in her own pain she never even thought about how her parents would feel.

"But it wasn't your fault daddy. T-they did it." And even if he'd been there he might not have had any more of an idea about what to do than she had. And that would have meant she might have lost him. NO! What had happened was bad enough without making it even worse.

"I should've been there to help you. It's my job as your father to make sure that you're safe." But he couldn't have done anything! And she couldn't tell him that because she would have to explain her reasoning.

"No daddy, I don't want you to feel guilty." This was so unfair; a couple of things that shouldn't really exist tried to eat her, and now everyone in her family was sad. And all she had done today was stay in her room where they couldn't see her, couldn't be sure that she was safe. That needed to be changed. "I'm afraid to leave my room, but I want to talk to mama as well. Can you help me?

"Of course, baby." She could see a slight smile appear on her father's face. Yes, this was the way to go—one step at a time. This first step was actually exiting her room, and later on she might even try going outside. Well, maybe the backyard. While the sun was still up.

XXX

Why had she let herself talk herself into this? And what the hell kind of sentence was that anyway? The earlier confrontation with the soft, weak, side of her had ruined her emotionless state. Emotions were a liability, that was something she had been taught her entire life, and she couldn't afford them now. Yet she had to deal with them at this moment, while they interfered with her ability to stay focused on what mattered. How could that stupid kid have gotten himself into this much trouble anyway? And why was she doing this again? Because he wasn't a bad kid.

The internal dialogue, that Dawn was having, was more and more starting to turn into a real fight. But she couldn't have that right now. She was approaching the territory that Fred had told her was controlled by the fools trying to entrap her. And why? It didn't make any sense for them to do that. She hadn't done anything really bad yet in LA. Well, except for beating the two guys up, but that wasn't the kind of thing you'd create an elaborate plan for.

No, there had to be something more to all this, and once she'd dealt with the kidnappers she'd try to find out. That might mean she'd have to let one live though. Oh well, you can't have everything, can you?

But back to business now. It was time for planning; bad news first. The information she had received intimated that there were between twenty and thirty potential targets, and they were expecting her. The good news was that she was armed, carried enough bullets to kill all of them—unless she got caught up in a long firefight—and of course the fact that she was Noir.

Well, that was a short summary of the pros and cons, and it was obvious that the pros outweighed the cons. She was the best—even if her body might not yet agree with her on that point—and this bunch of amateurs would soon learn that. Now all she needed was a plan of approach.

This particular gang, group, whatever, went by the ridiculous name of The Gilded Rings, and operated mostly from a single building. Which was where they'd probably stashed Dave. She mentally reviewed the information she'd heard about the building; three stories high, a basement, one main entrance, and a second one at the back. Both heavily guarded. The goons were probably in possession of at the very least several submachine guns, maybe even heavier weapons.

Expected level of competence with their chosen weapons: middling to fair. The danger was most likely to come from the incompetents using automated weaponry. Dave could probably be found in the basement, which was good as he'd stay out of danger that way, while on the other hand that also meant she couldn't just extract him either.

The parameters for the mission were obvious then. Go in, kill almost everybody, find out why they set this up, and free Dave. Easy as pie.

Damn it! One year, one single year was all the time she needed to gain the strength she needed to pull off something like this. One year of training with her gun, one year in which she could perfect the techniques her mind knew, but her body didn't. And all she'd gotten was less than two months of physical training, and what amounted to one whole day of training with a gun.

Life, as they say, sucks. But there was nothing she could do about it. The other personalities now seemed to understand this as well, and pulled back; leaving the beautiful emotional void she was used to. Patting the pockets of her jacket she made sure everything was still in place, and turned into the street where the building was.

In a way, this was the most dangerous part. How well did these people know her description? Would they try to kill her the moment she walked past their base? But she couldn't do anything without having seen the building for herself. The information was nice, but it had still come verbally, and nothing was better than looking at something for yourself. The only people who she might have trusted to give an accurate description of the building would have been her former partners. Both of them, either of them. It's not like they'd ever really work together.

With a knife hidden in her hand, Dawn walked past the building, doing her best to appear not to be paying any attention to it, while in fact she was busy analyzing what she saw of it out of the corner of her eye. Two guards outside the front door, another two by the window, probably another set behind the door, guarding the hallway. That made six people that she'd have to get past.

A small alley at one side of the building, also containing guards. Probably the alley that led to the backdoor. Yes, these people were indeed protecting their base well. For a moment she wondered why they would do so. Right now it might be because of her, but the guards seemed far too familiar with their places to have only just been placed there. No, most likely there was another reason, and hey, maybe she was lucky and the reason they were guarding it so heavily was because they kept a lot of money in there.

She had passed the building now, without anybody trying to kill her, and continued walking for a couple of hundred meters. When she finally stopped she considered her options. The front was out, as was the backdoor. But that didn't make any sense. Why hadn't they left any obvious gaps in their defense? Didn't they understand that they'd never get her if she couldn't figure out a way to get inside?

No, they had to know that, so there had to be another way in. One that wasn't guarded, or which would at least appear to be unguarded. And if both the front and back were out, that only left the roof. So, they obviously had a roof entrance as well—an entrance that could be reached without all too much trouble. She guessed there were no guards on the roof itself, and to someone stupid that might look like an invitation.

To her it looked like an invitation as well, but one that said 'Come and join us at the massacre of the tiny stairwell that comes down from the roof.' So no, that was not the way to survive this. When she thought of something that might work however, she felt a tiny bit of emotion—just enough to have the corners of her mouth curl up into an evil grin. Oh yes, there was something she could do after all.

. . . .

Standing on the roof next to the one she intended to enter, Dawn saw that she had been right. There was an entrance there, and it did appear to be unguarded. It was rather insulting that they believed she'd fall for something like that though, did they really think she was some kind of little kid who believed everything that was shown in movies?

Not that it really mattered, the entrance posed a danger to her, and she needed to deal with it before she did anything else. Stepping onto the other roof she walked in a straight line for the metal door, stopping only once in order to retrieve a piece of solid looking pipe. The cold metal would work well enough so there was no real need to look for anything better.

Upon reaching the door, she first checked whether it could actually be opened—it would be rather silly to do something to a door that she couldn't use anyway—and once she was sure it did, she wedged the pipe under the handle. The easiest way to prevent anyone from opening it from the inside. Once that exit had been secured, she continued walking to the other side of the roof and jumped over the small alley. At only about a meter wide, even her body could handle that. And as the guards down there weren't paying attention to the sky, they never noticed her either.

Now it was time to do what needed to be done. Taking out her gun she checked the clip, and screwed the silencer on. The fools might make a lot of noise, but she had no intention of attracting the police to this location. Okay, she realized that the police wouldn't come here until everything was over, but using a silencer was good for things besides evading the law.

Closing her eyes she tried to calm herself. It was finally time for her to rejoin the real world. Her rest was over; so far every murder she had committed had actually had a good reason—both persons had been immediate threats to her safety. But while it might cost Dave his life, she could still back out of this mission.

No. With her eyes closed like this, her other senses seemed to be enhanced even beyond her natural emotionless level, and through the gloves she could clearly feel the outline of her gun. The gun she had bought for a reason, and while this was earlier than she would have chosen, it was still the same thing she had always done. So, taking a deep breath she once again readied herself for a mission.

She looked over the edge, into the alley; the men standing there really were the proverbial sitting ducks. Holding the gun with both hands she aimed carefully before pulling the trigger. The recoil was still the same as the day before, but by now she had more or less adapted to it, and it no longer presented a problem.

That first shot had hit her target, and he fell dead to the ground. Instant brain surgery. She resisted the urge to shake her head; that comment had definitely come from either the Dawn personality, or the other one. But after that first shot the rest were just as easy. While the goons were still looking around for the shooter she had all the time to pick them off, one by one.

And when the last one lay dead on the ground, she spared a moment to wonder why nobody ever looked up in these cases. Granted, the targets weren't as big when you looked down upon them, but a capable assassin didn't need large targets.

Dawn then aimed at the window on the third floor she had chosen as her entrypoint, and emptied her gun at it before exchanging the clip for a fresh one. Ready for the next part of her mission, and with the gun in her hand, she jumped through the window.

XXX

Stepping into the building was easier than exiting the car had been. At least here she didn't have to go out into the open again. And with her father by her side Jane felt at least a little safe. But even so, before actually stepping into the library, she looked at the sun and estimated how long it would be before it would go under. Still a couple of hours light left, she thought, but wasn't really sure as she had never been any good at estimating that kind of thing.

"It's okay baby, go inside, I'm here with you," her father urged when he noticed her hesitation.

Yes, she really should go inside. After she finally managed to convince her muscles that she really wanted to do so, she stepped through the entrance and into one of her favorite places in Sunnydale. The public library. Only her family could come up with something like this. Oh, she was pretty certain other families would decide that the victim of an attack like that needed to go outside as soon as possible.

Psychologically it was the best way to confront her fears, but most people would take their child to the beach, the mall, or even just on a short stroll. Her parents on the other hand had decided that not only would it be best to face those fears, but try to understand them as well. And for that you needed books.

Not that she really minded it, in a strange and twisted way that fit her family, bringing her here actually made sense. And they had gone to a lot of trouble for it too. Even with them being among the main contributors for the library, it hadn't been that easy to gain access. Sure, it helped that they were also friends with the head-librarian, but she was pretty sure that not even they would have normally received permission to enter during the holiday season. Only the fact that it had been for her sake had probably managed to convince the man he should allow them to do so.

But still, she didn't really think this would help her any. Sure, there would be reports and things like that about cases similar to what she had told her parents had happened, but that wasn't what had really taken place. And reports about vampire attacks weren't very likely to have been subjected to any decent research.

"You don't have to read anything about it," her father broke into her thoughts, causing her to look at him in surprise. The slightly comforting smile on his face was belied by the pain she could see in his eyes; pain caused by the lack of her usual reaction upon entering this building. "Yes, it would be helpful to you, but not if you don't believe you're ready for it. In this your mother and I decided that it might be best to trust your own judgment. You can just go read some other books if you'd prefer."

Oh, okay. But there wasn't really any book that she felt like reading. A sappy romance wasn't exactly something she was in the mood for, and a detective or horror story came a little too close to what had happened to her. And with the way her mind kept wandering she had a feeling that reading non-fiction would just be a waste of time. Her parents had gone to all this trouble though, so she couldn't just ask to be taken home. "I-I'll just walk around a little, see if I can find anything."

Once again the pain manifested itself in her father's eyes, but he only smiled and told her that was fine. "I'll just stay here then, where you can see me, okay?"

Yes, that would be great. He wouldn't be looking constantly over her shoulder, but still be somewhere close so she could draw comfort from his presence. She even managed a wan smile to indicate how much she appreciated that. "Thank you daddy." Maybe once she had found a way to deal with her troubles she could talk in something other than a small voice as well.

Jane started her walk in the children section. It had been years since she last borrowed any of these books, but she still remembered them well. Trailing her hands over the jacket of one of her favorites, she recalled how she had laughed at the antics of the main character. And she wondered why she had thought it so silly when she'd read it a second time, had she really grown out of liking books like these?

Deciding to test that, she took the book and opened it. But after paging through a couple of chapters she remembered what her biggest problem with these books was nowadays. They all held only a single plotline; a little boy or girl that needed to solve one single problem, without needing to think about the greater consequences of their actions. Something that was so out of touch with reality that it could only be considered as interesting for little children. No, she had really outgrown these books, and with a heavy sigh of resignation she put it back.

Walking over to the adult section she repeated the same behavior there, walking in between the bookcases, and letting her mind go blank while looking for the titles she already knew. And whenever she found one she recalled the story that had gone with it, stories in which, most of the time, the hero won. Stories that told her that despite all the bad things in the world, in the end it was good that triumphed. A message that she had really needed to be reminded of.

But they were only stories. She almost started crying again, real life wasn't like that at all. In real life there were no actual heroes, only people that were in the right spot, at the right time. Or more often than not, weren't there when they were needed. She was grateful to Xander for his actions in saving her life, but she also realized that he wasn't a real hero. Not in the way as heroes were described in books.

If he had been, surely he wouldn't have been thought of as the class clown. Surely people would have known about the things he did. On the other hand, she realized that maybe that was the way heroes worked in the real world, Clark Kent like. But even so, it was hard to think of the object of her friend's crush as a hero. And if he wasn't a hero, with superstrength, superbrains, or other superpowers that meant normal humans could deal with what had happened to her.

Normal people. People like her. She could overcome her fear; she could learn to deal with what had happened. No. Not could, would. She would overcome it. Yes, that was the spirit. And with a strength of purpose that she hadn't believed possible when she woke up that morning Jane decided to take her life back into her own hands.

It would take time, it would be hard, and undoubtedly it would hurt her, but she was in control of her own life. No mere subhuman species could take that away from her, she was smarter than them all. And if the vampires thought they'd get a second chance at the defenseless little girl, well... They'd have a surprise coming.

She had often wondered why a small town like this had devoted an entire section to mythology—when those books could just as easily have been in the history section—but today she was happy for it. Mythology had always seemed silly to her, people believing in gods and other non-existing entities. Of course, like with every other genre, there were books among them that everybody should read. But copies of the works of Homeros, Livius and other great masters already adorned her parents' walls, so she didn't need to borrow them here.

For the first time however, she no longer saw the other mythological books as a waste of time. Now they had become a challenge, the way for her to conquer her own fears. She couldn't recall who it was that had said that people only feared things they didn't understand, but she was about to prove him right.

XXX

Landing among the splinters of glass was Dawn's first clue that jumping through the window might not have been the best possible plan after all. It hadn't exactly been safety glass, and as she now rolled through its remains she picked up a number of cuts. Blood, her DNA left at the scene of the crime. If the police did actually come here, they might find it. And while it wasn't anywhere on record they might store it, only to call upon it once they'd found another trace at a different crime scene.

No, she would have to deal with that, but after she had completed her mission. The mission came first, and she could already hear her first target coming towards her, probably to check on the noise she'd made. A quick check of the room gave her a second clue however; there was nowhere to hide.

"I thought I heard something." Whoever it was on the other side of the door obviously didn't think there was any danger. Unless he expected people to be frightened of his voice.

"I don't know what it was I heard, that's why I'm looking, ain't it?" She couldn't hear the other one. Was he talking over a radio? That might pose a problem. But as it was a problem she couldn't possibly solve there was no use in worrying about it.

The target had reached the door by now however, and she still didn't have a place to hide. Only one option was left to her now, and Dawn took it.

The man on the other side of the door was turning the handle, but hadn't stopped talking either. Foolish man. "Of course I'm careful, do you-" She never heard what the man had planned to say next, and as last words went, these weren't the best she'd ever heard either.

"Christ!" Ah, he hadn't been talking over a radio; that was good. And having located the position of the other man she fired her gun again, creating two more bullet-holes in the door to join those that had spelled the death of the first man.

When no returning fire had come after ten seconds she carefully eased the door further open, only to have it stuck when it encountered the body of her first target. She was able to peer through the small opening though. There wasn't anyone else in the part of the room she could see, so Dawn decided she might as well try opening the door. Having to shove the body along with the door made it rather difficult though, and she had a feeling that if anyone saw how she kept kicking and shoving the door they'd never believe she was a capable assassin.

In the end though she did manage—after a couple of running kicks that she hoped hadn't betrayed her presence—to get the door opened wide enough for her to squeeze herself through the opening. Why couldn't she have at least a bit of strength in this body? If there had actually been anyone else in the room, or even within earshot, she would have been dead by now.

Throwing a glance at the corpse that had been blocking the door she almost took a step back from the grisly sight. He didn't exactly look like he'd enjoyed dieing, did he? No wonder the other guy had sounded so shocked.

Thinking about whom... She looked to where she expected to see the other and noticed that while she had only managed to hit him once, that one shot had been enough to take him out permanently. Good, now she could go and see about the other ones. If she moved fast enough she might be able to take out a large number before they even noticed she was there. And since she had now more or less proven they were all deaf that couldn't possibly be very hard.

. . . .

They were exactly where she'd expected them to be. Either these people really didn't have any imagination or she was even better than she believed. How about a combination of both then? Yes, that sounded about right. Dawn almost smiled as she looked at the group of eight, guarding the small stairway that led to the roof.

While the men looked as if they were expecting her to arrive any moment, there was still some talking going on.

"What's taking her so long? Are you sure she's coming?"

"Yes, I'm sure. You heard Anthony report that she was scouting the building. She'll be here any time now."

"Maybe he was mistaken?"

"Don't be ridiculous, you've all seen the picture. It isn't hard to recognize someone from that." Dawn stiffened as she heard that. Picture? They had a picture of her? How had they gotten hold of that? She hadn't noticed anybody taking pictures Saturday. That was something she needed answers to, and she didn't feel like waiting any longer.

As they all expected her to come from the stairway, she decided she might as well make use of those expectations. Carefully taking aim she targeted one of the men closest to the stairway, standing in a spot where he might be seen from above. Sloppy work like that should be punished anyway.

The silencer couldn't be heard over the talk of her welcoming committee; but when one of their own suddenly crashed to the floor, the bunch of amateurs instantly turned into a panicky, nervous bunch of amateurs. Some of them shouting in fright, others turning silent, but all turning their guns in the direction of the stairs. Away from her.

Stepping out into the hallway she didn't waste anymore time and quickly started shooting them. By the time half of them were dead, they started to realize their mistake. But that was far too late. The sudden cry of warning was cut off as she shut the man up, permanently. That left only three more. One was down before they had managed to turn around, the second followed shortly, but the third managed to find some cover for himself.

Quickly ducking back into the room she had just exited, she cursed as the heavy report of her target's submachine gun sounded through the building. Well, there went her silent approach. Even these people couldn't miss hearing that racket. She didn't have any time to lose now, she really needed to finish this guy and check the rest of this floor for enemies. Going down to the next one would be difficult enough without anyone left up here.

Letting herself slide to the floor she emptied her gun without looking in the target's direction. An action that called upon a memory that she didn't want to think about. That was over and done with. This was a different world. Quickly putting in a fresh magazine she waited for the expected sound from the other man. An amateur who couldn't think beyond his immediate survival.

When the expected silence arrived that announced her target had run out of ammunition, Dawn quickly stood up and made her way back into the hallway. This needed to be done fast, before he realized he could simply pick up a gun from one of his friends. However, she was counting on the fact that his panic would prevent him from thinking like that. What little training or experience he had should prompt him to reload his own gun instead of taking one from the others, and that would take too much time.

The sight of a terrified face looking up at her over the barrel of her gun proved that she had been right. However, sooner than she'd expected he overcame his fear and started reaching for one of the other guns. She put a stop to that by pulling the trigger. The fact that the bullet had passed by his head with only millimeters to spare seemed to cause the fear to return, and probably made him wonder why she hadn't killed him yet.

She knew exactly what she looked like at that moment. A little girl partly covered in blood, carrying a gun, and with emotionless eyes pinning him into place. But as she needed answers fast she decided something more was required, and, letting her own control slip for a moment, the Kirika personality allowed the other one to take over.

The change in her target was as immediate as it was in herself, emotions washed over her and she wallowed in them. Blood. Raising her left arm she brought it to her mouth in order to lick it, and reveled in the coppery taste. This was life. After having been imprisoned for so long she was finally let out to play again, and she was dropped straight into a beautiful situation.

A whimper escaped the man in front of her—who by now realized someone else was in charge of this body—and she focused her attention back to him. The gun was fired again, but this time not to miss. The scream of pain that emanated from her victim sounded like music to her ears. Oh, if she only had a couple of hours with him she could make him admit anything. But she didn't have that much time, more victims were waiting for her on the floors below, and she wouldn't want to disappoint them, now would she?

"Tell me about the picture and you'll be free to go." She had paid attention to her body's first encounter with Dave; the upbeat sound of her voice had terrified that boy a lot, and why fix something when it so obviously worked?

"I-I don't know what you're talking about." Dawn, if she could call herself that, sighed and once more pulled the trigger.

"Try again."

The man only started crying and shouting in pain even more, until she had enough of it. Shooting the guy was nice, but she really needed those answers. "Stop whining and answer the bloody question."

Although still sniffling like the little coward he was, the man finally realized he should just answer the question. About time too, she wanted to go after the fresh ones. There wasn't a lot of fun left in this one. "We were given the picture. H-he hired us to kill you."

"Who?"

"I don't know; he never spoke to me." The man was probably telling the truth, so, after taking a moment to enjoy killing him, she turned in the direction of the stairway. The only part of her that would have honored a promise about letting the victim go was the weak Dawn, all the others recognized the danger in such an action. Unlike them though, she actually enjoyed breaking promises like that.

. . . .

Before reaching the stairs she had remembered that she should check the rest of the floor, but unfortunately that had been a waste of time. It would have been fun to be able to kill some time by entertaining another victim, but unfortunately that wasn't to be. So she was now standing at the top of the stairway, undoubtedly with several people waiting for her to join them at the bottom of it.

Images of the carnage she could have inflicted on them had she been in a more capable body flashed through her mind, but unfortunately reality reasserted itself. She couldn't just dive between them, a gun in each hand and kicking and shooting everyone into the hospital. Not that they'd ever survive long enough to arrive at a place like that. Not while she was in command of this body.

How to go about this though? Maybe she could use one of the submachine guns they had tried to use against her? No, while she liked the poetic justice in it, her body couldn't possibly handle one of those. A distraction then? Yes all she needed was for them to be distracted for a moment so that she might do what she wanted to do. But what kind of distraction could she use? Something that was in ample supply. As the obvious solution came to her she couldn't resist the laughter that resulted from it, oh yes, that would be a distraction indeed.

Turning away from the stairs she briefly considered the effect her insane laughter might have had on the people waiting for her. Insane laughter? Where had that come from? She wasn't insane; she just had a slightly different moral standard than most people. And what did she care about the effect? Having found what she needed though she started to drag the first body to the stairs, only to have it remain it exactly where it was.

Okay, she should have remembered that from before. Her body was far too weak to drag theirs. How to solve this then? She had some time to think it over; nobody else would be joining her up here anytime soon. She couldn't drag them anywhere, maybe if the floor had actually been smooth that might have been possible, but with these damned carpets everywhere that couldn't be done.

After thinking it over for a couple of minutes she finally came up with a solution, it wasn't pretty but then, that was just the way she liked it. Taking hold of her chosen distraction she tried to turn him around. That was still hard work, but it was at least easier than dragging him over the bloody carpets. Heh-heh, bloody carpets, how apt. And so she exerted all of her strength in rolling the corpse to the stairs.

Once she had managed to get it to the top of the stairs Dawn decided that, despite the difficulties she had in crossing the corners and doorways, it had been fun and she might as well get a second one. A double distraction was always better than a single one, and why shouldn't she enjoy what she was doing here anyway?

. . . .

"Hey! Down there! I'm coming for you," Dawn called before non-to-gently pushing and kicking the two corpses down the stairs.

The sounds they made as they landed on the steps would probably have been enough to make most people throw up. She however loved the sound, not just because of the sound itself, but also for the reaction it had on the others with whom she shared a mind. They believed they could keep her captive, but she had been studying them, and now that she was free she would make sure they'd regret that.

The sound of several shots being fired reminded her of where she was though, and she brought her attention back to where it should be. The shooting stopped very quickly though as her victims realized what they were firing at.

"Holy shit!" "Crap!" "Damn!" Were all things that she was pretty sure their mothers would have punished them for saying. But as their poor old mothers weren't present, she would just have to be the one doing the punishing. The smile that adorned her face as she descended the stairs would have told anyone that they would've been better off with their mothers though.

Walking silently down the steps she once again regretted the fact that she couldn't use two guns at the same time; that really would've made this more fun. But as always that could be blamed on the weak body that prevented her from having so much fun. Now that she was thinking about it, where did she come from anyway? She knew that the other personalities had wondered the same thing, but they were weaklings—except for the one that had been in control the past month—and couldn't figure their way out of a paper bag.

Still, she could think about that at a later time, right now it was time to have some fun. She was actually almost at the bottom before one of her victims decided to look up, not that it helped him much as the bullet in his brain prevented him from doing anything else. Ever. But the way he collapsed to the floor drew the attention of the others as well. But before they had overcome their shock she started firing at them as well. Her blood was boiling, the passion flowing, and she could smell the heavy scent of pleasure and pain in the air. Ah, it was good to be alive.

"One dead, two dead, three dead, four dead. I want to wear a paper hat," she sang. Not that she really cared about the text, but it was something like that bottle-of-beer song. "Five fools at the bottom of the stairs, and when I shoot one, that only leaves four." Why couldn't she remember how the song went? Oh well, it was over far too soon anyway.

As she stood there on the bottom of the stairs, once more surrounded by corpses she felt some disappointment. This hadn't been that much fun. They had barely put up any resistance, how could a little girl scare them that much? And of course, there was something else that had ruined the effect. Glaring at the silencer adorning her gun she decided to take it off, it took away the beautiful sound of the gunshots.

"SHIT! That's hot!" Ouch, why hadn't she remembered that silencers were hot after you've used them? Suddenly that didn't seem to matter anymore though; there was something wrong. She had no idea what it could be, but something wasn't right.

Spinning around quickly to find out if it was something behind her she felt the burning agony of a bullet entering her body. The shock of the sudden pain was great, but as she was falling to the floor she could still see the most important thing about the man who had just shot her.

A golden ring, the same ring those amateurs that had come after Buffy wore. That's how they'd known about her. The one she'd killed had even warned her, but she hadn't paid any attention to it then, figuring it to be the normal boosting of a defeated fool. But now it was obvious, a member of the Order of Teraka had come here to kill her. And was far too close to succeeding.

-------------------

Post-fic comments: Well, I have a feeling you wouldn't like it if I said this was the last chapter... So I'll just tell you the next one will come on Monday. If you don't think this was violent enough, I put the R version up in the DawnHalloween group. Anyway, for those of you who reviewed thanks for doing so. After all, 9 out of 10 Sims agree: Reviews improve an author's wellbeing.

Okay, the feedback answer thing.

BF110C4: Thanks for the compliment. Anyway, the battle for Dave is still going on, probably not quite the way you expected it, so you'll have to wait until the next part to find out what happens. Ah, and then there is Jane... Well, you've read this chapter and the next will say a bit more about her as well. I don't want to spoil that.

The Unicorn: Thanks for the continued reviews. The book, I haven't read it but I'll certainly try to do so sometime soon.   
Kirika was indeed trained from a very young age, I think 6 is rather older than it actually was. She was more or less selected by birth and probably started learning how to shoot from the moment she could stand. And that does mean that Dawn is able to learn how to use the gun faster than Xander. On the other hand it also means that she's got a higher standard, in the series she was practically able to hit whatever she wanted. No matter how difficult the shot was.

The bullets thing I misunderstood, sorry about that. Anyway, in the show they always loaded their clips/magazines (whatever you like to call them) themselves. And while I haven't shown that here, it wouldn't exactly make for an interesting scene, she does that here as well. It's so much easier to buy a load of bullets than filled clips. The whole practice thing is something I haven't decided on yet, but I don't think beneath Sunnydale High School will be a good idea while Buffy and the others don't know about her.  
Jane, read the answer above :-) A flare gun, I hadn't thought of that yet. I'll think about it. Buffy's reaction on the other hand I've already figured out, but won't be in this story.

Allen Pitt: Yes, Dawn might be able to find Buffy there, if that's what she wanted. But I won't say anything more about all that, try again in a couple of stories... What else, oh yeah. The Green Lady thing, I'll admit that Drusilla would recognize Dawn as such if she'd see her. Of course, that still leaves the question whether they'll ever meet. Whistler, Doyle, and Lorne. Phew... Not in this story. In future ones? Well, there are possibilities that it'll happen, but when or how? Sorry, but for some reason you pose the questions that will be answered in stories I either don't want to spoil or haven't completely planned out yet. I can tell you that IF they show up, they won't have a very big role. The cast would just get too big, and after having read about the other personality, would you really want her to sing in Caritas? Lorne might get a heart attack.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

Falling to the floor, Dawn didn't need to think about the situation to understand the trouble she was in. However incompetent those other three might have been, this new primary victim was in a whole other class. That might be an exaggeration generated by the fact that he actually managed to hurt her, but the Order had probably realized they needed someone good to do this.

Oh shit. The man was tracking her while she was falling to the ground; for once she wasn't facing a talker, but actually someone that believed in killing without opening his mouth. Not good. As she landed on the floor, the sudden jarring of her body sent fresh spears of agony through her body. Pain, to most people a fall like that would have been a crippling experience, but she thrived on it.

With the delicious feeling coursing through her body, Dawn was awoken from her shock and reacted far quicker than her opponent could have imagined. Her gun was no longer in her hand, had she dropped it? No matter, this one was going to suffer for actually touching her. A knife was flying through the air—before she really noticed she had thrown it—aimed for the other assassin.

As he dodged the knife she had a small chance to get behind some cover herself. And for once she actually decided to do so. Hurting the primary victim was important, but she had enough self-preservation to understand that being alive was definitely a good thing too. Besides, she couldn't hurt anyone if she was dead. There wasn't much in the room she could use though, the only thing being a table. A thought came to her causing her to smile, a wild-west shoot-out! Hi-yah!

Diving over the table her newest wound was once more brought to her attention, giving her the strength needed to topple the sturdy piece of furniture. Once she was safely ensconced behind it though, she took a moment to check her wound. Lifting her t-shirt slightly she looked at what she found there. Where the bullet had entered her body it had left a small hole, and in the front, where it exited, there was a bigger one. Not only ruining her body, but her clothes as well, the bastard would pay for that!

Risking a peek around the table she noticed that the victim was kicking the guns from his friends away. Damn! She should have taken one when she had the chance. He was almost finished too, and she had no doubt that he'd try to kill her again once he was done. She hadn't seen what kind of gun he was carrying, but it was probably one that would be able to get through the table. Why he hadn't tried it she didn't really understand though, did he suspect a trap? She wished he had a good reason for it, but instead of trying to come up with a plan she refocused on the hole he'd created in her body.

The wound itself wasn't what she called a pretty sight though. No, actually it was what she called a pretty sight, but only when it was on someone else's body. Allowing some of the blood to spill over her own hand she licked the red liquid. Good, it still tasted the way blood should taste, so it was unlikely that any vital organs had been hit. Not that she was out of danger with the amount of blood that was still flowing from her, but at least she wouldn't be poisoned by her own body.

She really needed to treat her wound though, and time was starting to run out. By now he was probably wondering where exactly she was behind the table. If he missed the first time she might be able to hurt him. So what should she do? What could she do? Taking stock of her situation made her realize just how much trouble she was in. Severely wounded, armed only with a couple of knives, and facing someone who was not only better armed but competent to boot.

Realizing where her only chance of survival lay, Dawn let out another burst of cackling laughter. Only this time even she could hear the despair in it. This wasn't fair, she had just been released from her prison and now her only chance of survival lay in surrendering once more. She couldn't do that, could she? Even before she'd finished that thought she had already moved away from where she was seated. And not a moment too soon either, the part of the table where she had just been had been turned into a mass of splinters.

No, don't try to kill him yet, he still has bullets in his gun. If she tried it now he wouldn't have any trouble killing her. But there had to be a way for her to get out of this by herself, and she resolved to find it. A sudden sound from a door to her left made her look in that direction. Seeing another victim she didn't wait but immediately threw one of her knives, piercing the woman's eye. It was only then that she realized her mistake, and not even waiting to check she stood up, threw a knife in his general direction, and ran away. The knife probably hadn't done that much good as she could hear the sound of gunshots tearing apart her last hiding place in that room. On the other hand, he'd shot the table and not her.

Damn competence, everywhere in this thrice-damned city she encountered that annoying trait. And it wasn't even as if those people really needed it. Only she had to be competent, and she was. With a fixed smile on her face, she dove through the entrance where she had just taken care of the other victim. More bullets followed her through, but all aimed too high, competent people like the one she was facing probably didn't believe anyone with a stomach wound would actually dive to the floor.

More luck for her then. Breathing hard she looked around the room for anything she could use. The pain was slowly starting to become too much even for her, and she needed to treat her wound. Well, there was always the Rambo method, except there were limits to how far even she would go. Torching another human being, fine; using fire to close her own wounds? No freakin' way.

But she had a moment respite now. These walls were too thick for his gun to penetrate, and if he tried to come through the door. Well... That would be a nice thing. Her wound though; there was something else she could do, it might not exactly be what she had planned, but it would just have to do. Moving to take of her own jacket and t-shirt she suddenly noticed the woman on the floor. Oh yeah, why use her own clothes for bandages, when using someone else's meant she wouldn't have to walk around half-naked?

Without thinking she reached out to grab the woman's clothing, only to snatch it back before it had been exposed for too long. Bad move. She wasn't entirely sure why her opponent hadn't just shot her arm to pieces, but she was grateful for it nonetheless. Somehow though she had a feeling she wouldn't get a second chance, especially not if she'd accidentally show a more vital part of her body.

Grabbing the woman's arm—the only part she could reach without exposing herself—she started to drag, but like on the upper level, the floor wasn't very cooperative here. Unlike earlier however, she was wounded and the failed movement tore on the wound and came close to bringing tears to her eyes. Okay, that wasn't going to work. Shooting a slightly anxious glance at where she knew the assassin had to be waiting for her to make a mistake Dawn decided on what to do. She'd just take as much of the woman's clothes as she could then.

Once more taking hold off the arm she began tearing at the woman's sleeve in an attempt to get at least some of the cloth. And that did work, eventually. After what seemed to be an eternity she heard the tearing of the stitches and when the sleeve tore loose she couldn't keep her balance, causing her to once more suffer the no longer delicious pain.

Using a knife she quickly turned it into several strips of bandages, before hesitating. This was about as far as she could come on her own. The Kirikas knew how to go about bandaging people, but she only knew how to hurt them. "Alright then. Help me, or die with me."

It took a while, but in the end she felt the grudging response that indicated she would receive the help she needed. And without having to give up her position as ruling personality. That made her wonder about something though. And while she was tying the strips together so she could bandage her wound, she tried to discover why the real Dawn hadn't tried to take over from her. After all, she wasn't acting anything like what that weakling would approve off.

But where she knew the personality to be she only discovered a quivering mess of anxiety, too disgusted by what her body had done to even contemplate taking over. What d'ya know, toying with people wasn't only fun, it was useful too.

Thinking about toying, now that she had taken care of her wounds—or at least as much as she could right now—she was ready to play with the primary victim again. Why hadn't he made a move yet? Dawn was about to risk a peek into the room when a pricking in the back of her neck warned her of the danger that threatened her. Once more she was only just in time to dodge the bullets—once more she had been outclassed, outsmarted, and outgunned.

The bastard had actually circled around her! He really was good. And once again she had the niggling feeling that she wasn't good enough to stand against this opponent. But someone else was. It would mean captivity, but as she kept on running, diving, and otherwise dodging bullets she started to realize that even captivity was better than being dead.

How could anyone actually make her fear him? It just wasn't possible, she was the one people were supposed to fear, not the other way around. But as she was hit in the face by yet a splinter—this one lodged free when a bullet hit the wooden door she was moving past—she decided it was time though. "Alright then, if that's what you want, that's what you get. Playtime's over." And after telling her opponent that, she dove into the relative safety of the first room, and retreated back into the void of captivity.

. . . .

Looking around Dawn checked her location, she knew that the target was in the room behind her. Once more waiting for her to make a move that would betray her location. But not this time, this time her body wasn't being controlled by a raving lunatic. She should never have allowed that creature to take over—it hadn't been of any use and had only ensured that she got wounded.

Looking at her main wound she adjusted the bandages so they were actually of any use. If the other wasn't even capable of following clear directions, was there anything she could do? The pain that emanated from the wound had already been shunted to a corner of her brain at the moment she took over again. Just like the emotions had been blocked off as well. This body—weak as it might be—was going to work at maximum efficiency for the coming minutes. An efficiency that was required to end this situation.

Her target was good; there was no doubt about that. But from her dispassionate viewpoint she had already uncovered flaws in his technique, tiny mistakes that could easily be afforded against anyone without her training. Unfortunately for him, he wasn't facing anyone else.

The gun, she did remember where she had dropped it. Knowing the location of your primary weapon had been a lesson drilled into her while she was still a small child, so unlike the other she knew its location. And it was still there, unlike the weapons her target had taken away. Why hadn't he done that? Was it a trap? Did it matter?

It wasn't like she could have used any of the other weapons anyway. A gun where even something as simple as the recoil was far more powerful than what her body was still getting used to? While she was wounded? No, that was a recipe for disaster. She needed the gun she knew she was capable of using.

A gun that her opponent had left lying there, out in the open where she couldn't possibly miss it. This situation needed to be resolved quickly, so despite the possibility of a trap she had to make a choice. As that particular thought flashed through her head she tried to rationalize the decision she had taken when the possibility had presented itself, those few seconds before.

Right now she had an advantage the other wasn't aware of—her target was suddenly facing someone completely different. And it was obvious that once he realized she was no longer the amateur he had faced before, he would stop taking some of the risks he had so far.

It was obvious as well that during the course of this battle the other's impression of her abilities had dropped dramatically. No longer was she considered someone that had taken out Order members through skilful fighting. By now she had dropped to either someone with a lot of luck, someone who had taken advantage of a situation, or someone who had been mistakenly identified as a danger.

How could she capitalize on that though? She needed him to make a mistake at a moment she could take advantage of it. If he would try to circle around she could make it work, but she would need her gun for that. And if he wasn't in a position to stop her from taking the gun, why wouldn't she make use of that option anyway?

A quick glance proved that he had indeed been that stupid, believing her to actually be so incompetent that she'd fall for the same trap twice. Well, she grudgingly admitted, the other might have actually been that stupid. A mental upheaval in the part of her mind that housed that particular creature told her that someone didn't like that thought. Tough luck.

She didn't have long though, and racing for her gun she grabbed the familiar shape, quickly ejecting the magazine it was holding, and replacing it for a fresh one. No need to take any risks concerning the number of bullets she still had. Running into the other room that adjoined that one she dove into a roll, just as her target entered from the other side. She made it, and from what she had seen of the gun, it hadn't been tampered with.

For a moment the man froze, clearly not expecting her like that. No longer the pain loving freak from before, but a competent, emotionless assassin. That single moment was all she really needed and her gun was already aligned perfectly with the target. Pulling the trigger shattered the silence with its hardly audible plop, but the lack of a sudden bloom of blood appearing where the other's heart was supposed to be told her something she couldn't believe.

She had missed, instead of killing him, she had only exposed herself for a quick death. Betrayed by her weak body. For a moment the world seemed to slow down as the other started to move his gun down to her level. A smile was forming on his face, and she realized that she was doomed.

But wait a minute, after her shot he had taken a single step backwards—if he'd been hit that was something that shouldn't have really been possible for a human, but who said he was human? The target obviously wanted to end this now though, and his gun was almost sighted at her face.

The time during which all these thoughts had crossed her mind couldn't have lasted more than a second, and they made her realize something. He wasn't the only one who wanted to end this situation. Overcoming her own surprise she moved again, with the sudden determination to be the one who survived this.

Getting to her feet, she started pulling the trigger while retaining her aim at the target, pumping him full of bullets. She noticed him twitch every time a bullet hit him, and it was getting worse as well. By the time her magazine was empty he had trouble standing and she quickly changed it for a fresh one while walking closer to him. Her shots had come so fast he hadn't really had the chance to aim and had therefore only been able to get of some shots that went wide.

With his clothes ruined by the bullets she could see why he hadn't responded as she'd expected. He was wearing body-armor. Just like that woman in the Manor had, how could she have missed the signs? But she knew exactly what to do, and, before he had a chance to react to the sudden cessation of incoming fire, she started firing again. This time not aiming for his torso, but the more difficult target that was his head.

Obviously realizing what she was about to do, her target had already raised his arm to ward of the bullets while also continuing to return fire. But as he shouldn't be able to get a steady aim at her, Dawn just ignored the bullets. If they would hit her it was over, but that was a risk she needed to take. If she didn't keep on shooting he would have time to aim carefully. And that wasn't something she'd be able to survive.

In a way the outcome had been certain the moment she regained control of her body, and the moment a bullet finally crashed into her target's face was only the confirmation. For a moment she stood there, watching dispassionately how his heavy body crashed to the floor.

With that part of the mission finally completed she needed a moment to regain her breath. But she couldn't wait too long, there were still some people left, and while they might not be as big a problem as this one, she needed to deal with them too. Just like she needed some decent medical aid. Right now the wound didn't hurt so much, but once she was no longer in any danger of losing her life that would undoubtedly change.

Her mind made up and her immediate goals for the future set, she didn't waste anymore time with the body—except for taking the ring, so she could add it to her growing collection—and started checking the rest of the building.

XXX

Sitting in his cell, Dave felt the same frustration he had since the day before. Okay, maybe he shouldn't have tried to find out about the Rings' out of town friend, but they had reacted as if it was some kind of state secret or something. Well, not a state secret since they wouldn't care about that, but still something very important.

And all he'd done was a little snooping, it wasn't as if he had actually found out anything. But no, they had to go and lock him up. In a cold cellar even! It was the middle of the winter and they locked him up in a bloody cellar! Which at first he'd thought rather strange, until he heard them wondering when she would come for him.

She. It hadn't taken him very long to figure out who they meant with that. The only thing he couldn't understand was why they believed she'd come for him. Dawn hadn't exactly been warming up to him on Saturday, and when he had tried to follow her home she'd set the cops on him. Not that he had waited around to see what they wanted. He wasn't a snitch, so no cop could possibly have a nice reason to talk to him.

But he was even more anxious now, as for what seemed like an eternity there had been a gun battle going on above him. He didn't know who was fighting who, but he both hoped and feared it was one particular someone. Could Dawn have actually convinced her boss to come rescue him?

The prospect of that was terrifying, not that he had anything against being rescued since it seemed like his captives were more than willing to keep him here indefinitely, but to be saved by Dawn's boss... Well, there probably were worse things than meeting that guy. Right? Yeah, there had to be. Of course if what he believed about the man was even close to the truth that would probably involve nuclear weaponry, but there was always something worse.

Some of the sounds he'd heard told him that maybe that wasn't true after all, but surely while the guy might torture his opponents here, he wouldn't do that to the one he came to rescue, right? Why did he keep trying to convince himself that it wasn't all that bad? There wasn't anything to fear from Dawn's boss, was there?

He shook his head, and stood up again for another round of pacing. What if it wasn't Dawn's boss? What if this whole mess going on didn't have anything to do with him? What if whoever won here decided they didn't want to leave any witnesses. He kicked the wall in frustration, and, while ignoring the throbbing pain in his foot, he berated himself for making up all these doom scenarios. Wasn't there enough trouble to go around already? Did he have to go and make it even worse, why couldn't he just wait and see what was going to happen?

Because he had never been able to wait around for anything to happen of course. Dave always believed he should be involved with everything. He should know about everything that was happening, that had already happened, and was still going to happen. And now that he couldn't he had to make things up, it was just a rather big shock to him that all he could come up with were these terrible things.

He looked up at the ceiling again, what was going on up there? It had been silent for a while now. At first there had been that short gunfight he could barely hear—probably on the top floor or something—only to be followed by what sounded a lot like someone being tortured. Those screams, even thinking about them made Dave go cold all over again, and he quickly went on. After that it had been silent again for a while, only to have the silence broken again by a couple of shots. Only a couple though, and by then he had finally figured out that one side of the fight was using silenced weapons.

So at that moment a second gunfight had probably just ended. After that it had gotten weird though. There was the occasional burst of gunfire but it all seemed to come from the same area in the building, as if the invaders had been bogged down or something. But even that didn't last all that long and the sound of gunfire had once again started to come from all over the place. Until maybe fifteen minutes ago, when it had suddenly turned completely silent again. And why wasn't there anyone coming down here to tell him what was going on?

Was it because they didn't know he was here? Should he call out to them? Right, and what if his doom scenarios were the truth? He'd be calling his own doom down upon him. Nope, he would wait for someone to come here. No need to hasten his own demise. Wow, what kind of language was that? People might think he'd actually gone to high school if he talked like that.

The tension was really getting on Dave's nerves though. He needed answers to certain questions. Who was that upstairs? What did they plan to do with him? Why the hell had the Rings wanted Dawn to come for him? Didn't they realize it was far more obvious her boss would show up? Or was that who they were really after? His frustration kept on growing but when he was about to hit the wall again he stopped himself. A sore foot was bad enough, to hurt his hand as well when he might need it in a final attempt to save himself was just stupid.

Save himself? Yes, he would need to prepare himself for that. If those people upstairs did want to kill him they would have to come inside this room, there had to be a way he could use that to get out.

But before he had a chance to think of something, the door opened. "Dave?"

It was Dawn; she had come for him. He couldn't believe his eyes, the little girl who had been so close to killing him two days before had now saved his life. "Dawn?"

As she entered the room he felt his eyes widen even more. She looked like hell warmed over. Her face was extremely pale, as if she had lost a lot of blood or something, but he couldn't see any obvious wounds. Not that they might not be hidden beneath her clothes or something, especially as she was wearing a sweater that was obviously too big for her.

But while there were quite a number of blood spatters all over her clothes, from the way she was carrying that gun of hers, it was pretty obvious that that blood didn't exactly belong to her. Had she helped her boss? Or had she actually come for him alone. Yeah right, she might be pretty good for a little girl, but there was no way a twelve-year-old could possibly take out all the Gilded Rings. So she had obviously helped.

"You're alright?" Oh, she was asking him that, he'd obviously zoned out a little while thinking.

"Yeah, I'm fine. They didn't really do anything to me, probably wanted me healthy for when your boss came."

"My boss?" Dawn seemed surprised at his comment, and for a moment he wondered why. But then again, he also wondered about her sluggish way of talking. Looking closer, and trying to ignore all that blood, the reason for that was revealed as he noticed how incredibly tired she looked…"Oh yeah. My boss. These people thought they could trap him, guess they were wrong huh?"

Maybe, but they had obviously managed to get her good so he reflected her own earlier question back. "Are you okay?"

"Sure, I think it might be best if we left now though, do you have anywhere we can go to talk?"

"'Course, we can go to where I live."

"Good, let's go then." And the little girl turned around, only to stumble a little while she went up the stairs. The hiss of pain was enough to tell him that she was indeed wounded, and maybe even pretty bad, so he hurried to her side in order to help her walk. The surprised look as he did so turned to gratitude while they went upstairs.

Once upstairs however he got another surprise. "Why does it small like gasoline here?"

"We also need to take that," Dawn answered while pointing out a briefcase standing next to the entrance to the stairway. Okay, so that question wasn't going to be answered.

"I'll get it." And letting the girl go he took a couple of quick steps to grab the briefcase. He was a little surprised by the weight; maybe it wasn't a case full of weapons after all.

When he once again had returned to her side she directed him to the back-entrance, one he knew led to a highly guarded alley. But there was something that didn't quite add up for him. "Where's your boss anyway?"

"The boss doesn't show himself to anyone but me and his targets. Since you're supposed to survive he told me to get you out."

"What? You mean he didn't even help you or anything? You're hurt, even I can see that."

A slight smile appeared on her face in reaction to his outrage before she once again whispered. "There's nothing more he can do for me now."

What? She didn't mean? "You're not?"

She looked quizzically at him when he cut himself off. "What? Oh. No, I'll live, there's just nothing else the boss can do for me now."

"Oh, okay." What kind of human being was that boss of hers if remaining hidden was more important to him than helping his, what? Assistant? Yeah, that's probably what she was. Great, a sort of Mathilda. Training to be a cleaner when she grew up.

As they finally stumbled outside he was surprised that he couldn't see anyone. In fact, he hadn't seen any corpses at all. Where were they? Surely a lot of people had to have died in there. He started walking towards the intersecting street when Dawn spoke up again. "Wait."

"What is it? Don't you think it would be smart if we left now?" Because he sure did. He hadn't had anything to do with the killing that had happened, but he didn't want the police to question him about it either.

"We do need to hurry. I don't know how long it'll be before the police and fire brigade get here." Fire brigade? He was about to ask her about that when the answer revealed itself in the form of a lighter. A lighter that the girl tossed into the house.

"The gasoline," Dave realized.

But Dawn obviously didn't believe that was something they needed to talk about. "Let's go."

. . . .

The walk to his current living place—an abandoned office building—didn't go as fast as Dave would have liked, but as they hadn't been stopped by anyone he wasn't about to complain. He'd gotten out of there without any real trouble, and nobody seemed to have followed him home. Which probably meant that he was safe; he didn't really want to bet his life on that though, so it might not be a bad idea if he moved to another building sometime soon.

After all, while he didn't think Dawn and her boss had actually missed any of the Gilded Rings, they might have friends with ideas about revenge. And, from what little Dawn had told him, probably the entire city knew he had been the bait. Oh great, he suddenly realized that the police might hear about that as well. Yeah, this day was starting to get better and better.

But right now all that was still in the future, and he was more interested in Dawn. The way she was sitting against the wall didn't exactly look very healthy, but he didn't really know what to do either. "Is there anything I can do for you?"

She shook her head before wincing—even a simple movement like that hurt her, what was wrong with the girl? "No, I just need to rest a little right now. If you happen to have any food though, that would be good. Something nutritious, even an energy bar would be great."

"I think I've got some stuff you could eat," he told her while walking to food stash. There wasn't all that much left—he really needed to do some shopping—but there were a couple of Mars bars that he offered her.

"Thanks," Dawn said while tearing into the food. She probably noticed his surprised look as she explained the reason for her eating. "There're some things in here, like the sugar, that my body needs right now. Helps with the healing."

Sure, whatever. If she said so, she was after all the killer here. He wouldn't even be surprised if she started to ask for milk next. "So, you'll be alright then?" Dave had a feeling the girl knew what to do, but the sudden chattiness surprised him.

"I'll be fine, didn't I already say so?" Oh, well she had to be feeling better if she could act cranky like that.

"Uh, yeah. Sorry, it's just." He just couldn't stop himself anymore. "You and your boss, you killed all those people today didn't you?"

"They were after m-my boss." Did she just hesitate there? It almost sounded as if she had wanted to say something else. But Dawn continued in her whispery voice, preventing him from thinking about it. "They had been hired for that job. Fools."

"They had been hired to kill your boss? Why would they take me, and why did you come after me anyway, what with sending the cops after me Saturday and all." The surprised look on her pale face told him that he might've been wrong about that after all.

"Police wasn't after you, but other one. I wanted to talk to you. Still do, but not now. Need to sleep now, could you wake me in two hours?" What? She was just going to sleep now? Here? And what's with the sudden change in attitude?

"But you-" he started, but cut himself off as he realized that she had already drifted of to sleep. Okay, so what was he gonna do now?

. . . .

When the two hours had passed he shook the girl awake, only to almost have his hand cut off. "Christ! Watch it with that knife will you?"

Dawn only blinked at him before putting the knife away. "Oh, it's just you."

"Yes, it's me. Man, you think you're doing someone a favor, and what d'ya get? Someone trying to take your hand off."

"That's enough," the girl broke his rant. "I might have just left you with them, you know."

Oh yeah, she had just saved his life. But that didn't mean she suddenly had the right to go around cutting off his hand. "Yeah, I wanted to ask you about that. Not that I don't appreciate it and all, but why did you save me?"

"Good question." Had he heard that right?

"Excuse me?"

"Don't worry about it. I did it, and with a bit of luck from now on people won't bother you again." Well, the brief nap had obviously improved her condition. She was actually capable of normal sentences again. At least, normal for her.

"Okay, you also said something about wanting to talk to me?"

The ghost of a smile appeared on her face. "Yeah, the boss wanted a mission so he could earn some money, but that isn't really necessary anymore."

Now that was an understatement, Dave thought while his eyes drifted to the briefcase. A sigh from the girl brought his attention back to her though, and once she knew she had his attention she spoke up again. "Did you take any of it?"

Oops. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"We're not playing this game Dave. Did you take any?"

Okay, he had checked the briefcase, but he hadn't taken any of the money it was filled with. "No."

"Why not?"

"Why not? That money is yours, or your boss', I'm not suicidal you know." Why not, he scoffed at the thought of risking his life for some money.

"Good, hand me the briefcase."

Not really understanding why she asked for it, he handed it to her nonetheless. But as she clicked it open he felt insulted. "Hey, I told you I didn't take any. You don't have to count y'know. That makes a man feel like he ain't trusted."

"Shut up," Dawn whispered at him, before cursing in some strange language. Kinda sounded like Japanese or something like it. But whatever it was that she was upset about didn't stop her from grabbing one of the packets of money and throwing it to him. "It would probably be best if you skipped town for a while."

"What?" He couldn't believe this, this had to a couple of thousand dollars and she had just given it to him?

"Consider it an early Christmas present. Oh shit," the girl cursed while dropping her head back against the wall.

"What?"

"Not important, something I've got to do. Anyway, like I said, you'd better stay out of LA for a while. In a month or two it should probably be safe to return. That money should be enough for that long."

"Eh, okay." He still couldn't believe it. Nobody had ever given him anything without wanting something in return, why had she given this to him?

"Somewhere in mid- to late February I'll be around again. We'll talk again then, discuss what you'll be doing for me."

So he had just been hired? Well, he wasn't really fond of all the corpses that seemed to come with her, but he had a feeling that saying no might cause him to become one of those corpses. Maybe he could use the money to get away from her?

"Enough talking for now. When we meet again will be soon enough for more questions." In other words, don't ask me any more questions. Was that what she meant?

"Sure."

"That's settled then," Dawn sighed before looking at her blood-covered clothes. "Do you have somewhere I can freshen up? And maybe some clothes I can borrow?"

"Yeah, there's running water in a couple of the rooms. I don't think anyone else is using it right now."

"Anyone else?"

"You didn't think I lived in this building alone did you?"

Dawn closed her eyes briefly, probably thinking about something. "No, of course not." Right, and his real name was Santa Claus, she really was in a far worse shape than she pretended, wasn't she?

Ignoring that thought however, he went on. "And about the clothes; you can have some of mine, but I think they'll be a bit big."

"That's alright, I won't need them very long anyway."

"What are you gonna do once you've cleaned up then?" Was she going to a hospital? Or would her boss look after her wound? Or her parents? Did she even have parents? He really wanted to find out more about the enigmatic little girl, but the reply he received wasn't anything like he'd expected.

"I haven't finished my Christmas shopping yet."

XXX

Now that had been one useless day, Xander thought, when he finally been decided that enough was enough. He doubted that they'd be able to discover anything else today and he really couldn't stand it anymore. In fact, the past hour or so he hadn't been able to do much reading anyway. The letters had seemed to swim in front of his eyes whenever he looked at a new text, and a couple of times he even had to shake himself just so he'd stay awake.

And he hadn't been the only one with that problem either, Buffy had actually fallen asleep once and he'd had to wake her before either of the research people noticed. He still wasn't entirely sure whether she had been grateful or pissed because of that, but that wasn't really important. Unfortunately the other two didn't seem to have that same problem, so he decided to inform them of the need to stop.

"So, nothing?" he asked the others.

"Nothing but boring books here," Buffy told him.

"I didn't find anything either," his best bud sighed, before looking at Giles for the confirmation of what they already knew.

"Nor I. I'm afraid that there might not be anything about this Green Lady in these books. Maybe we should think about other ways to acquire that information."

"What d'ya mean?" It was late, he was tired, and really wanted to go home. Sorry if he wasn't able to recognize a clue when it hit him on the head.

"It might be a good idea to question those vampires you spotted."

Eh, that might be kinda difficult to do G-man. Buffy jumped up at that opportunity though. "Why didn't you say so earlier? I might've been out of here hours ago."

"I believed that the information might be in one of these books."

"Shall I go out and slay some vampires then? I can do that, I'm awake enough for that."

Wow, Buffy, anxious to get away from the research, truly was an intriguing sight, wasn't she? "Maybe I should help? You know, with four eyes seeing more than two?"

"And get out from the research?" Oh come on Willow, that was low. He didn't do that kind of thing to her either, now did he? Who cared anyway? She was after all telling the truth.

"Well yeah, I mean we've been doing this for hours, and hours, and hours, and-"

"Alright," Willow held up her hand, before looking at Giles. "He does have a point though. I'm getting a bit hungry too."

"See, I really think we should stop now and continue sometime next year or something."

"Hey buddy, it was you who called us at half past early in the morning remember." As if they were ever going to let him forget about that. If someone had done that to him, he sure would've kept on harping about it.

"I know," Xander sighed, "but I'm really fed up with it now and tired as well. I'd probably even miss it if there was a book titled 'Information about the Green Lady'."

"Quite." As Giles spoke Xander didn't miss how Buffy looked more alive as well, probably hoping the same thing he was. "It might indeed be best if we stopped for today. Perhaps we could continue tomorrow, unless Buffy finds something during her patrol."

"I can't do research tomorrow Giles," Buffy said.

"Why not?" was asked, while the Brit started polishing his glasses—probably expecting some kind of ridiculous reasoning.

"I haven't finished buying all my presents yet."

"Oh yeah, me neither. I really have to do that as well tomorrow," Xander immediately spoke up, spotting a way to get out of the researching.

"Very well, after Christmas then? Or is that too early as well?" Wow, sarcasm from the G-man, who'd have though he was capable of it?

"We can do that," Willow immediately answered, receiving dirty looks from both Buffy and him. Wasn't it strange that both the person who had started the research, and the one for who it was the most important, hated the actual researching?

"Good, you can go on home then." Wasn't there something else? Oh yeah.

"Giles?"

A heavy sigh came from the man, who had probably been looking forward to a break without any American teens bothering him. "Yes Xander?"

"There're some things I'd like to know."

. . . .

On his way home Xander thought about the conversation he'd had with Giles. It wasn't exactly what he had wanted to hear, but well... Nothing he could do about it. The man hadn't been able to tell him anything new about the possession thing, but he would ask around for more information. Not that he had been in the least compassionate about his problems with it.

For some strange reason the Brit didn't consider clean bedrooms a sign of an upcoming apocalypse. At least the early wake-up calls had engendered some sympathy, but on the other hand he now also knew it might be best if he didn't tell the others about it. They'd probably keep teasing him about it for the rest of his life.

The training thing had obviously come as a surprise to Giles, but he'd been nice enough about it. The man apparently had at least some experience using knives in his Ripper days, and combined with being able to wield a mean stake he would try to teach him a bit. Not that he had really figured out how that would be of any real use to him, but from what he'd seen in movies, it would at the very least look cool.

He hadn't needed to ask about the unarmed combat thing, since Giles had brought that up himself. But they'd decided to first look how fast he picked up the knife fighting before they'd do anything about that. Especially since the Brit didn't really know anything about the fighting styles the soldier had probably learned. After all, watcher training didn't exactly focus on the same things as the US military did.

Well, he just had to look for some way he could train those skills anyway. If he could use them he would become a lot more useful to the others, and not just as another person who could research. Not that he'd be able to completely stay out of that, after all if Buffy had to help with it, so would he.

Immersed in his thoughts he opened the door of his house, and for once the first thing he noticed wasn't the smell of alcohol. He had no idea how he'd missed it standing outside, because the way his parents were shouting could probably be heard in Los Angeles. And why exactly was he surprised about that?

Uttering a deep sigh—he wasn't sure if it was out of disgust or resignation—he ignored the ongoing fight and made his way to his room. Maybe he could find somewhere to stay for Christmas. After all, the more things change, the more they stay the same.

XXX

Here she was again, sitting in a bus between Sunnydale and Los Angeles. Of course, quite a lot of things had changed since she did this same trip in reverse—a mere four days ago. As she shifted in her seat she immediately noticed the first change, the pain that she felt from the wound. While she had been able to buy some of the regular strength painkillers, they weren't exactly enough.

Stronger drugs would have required either a doctor's note, or she'd have to buy it on the black market. And while she had no choice to do it that way when it came to the antibiotics, or even the stitches, there were limits to the risks she would take. Not that she hadn't been stupid already; she shouldn't have waited that long before getting those stitches. She might not have wanted Dave to find out about her wound, but once he had been safe she should have left him to get medical aid.

And what did she do instead? She went with him to his living place—if you could call it that—and slept there. Slept! While she had a gaping wound in her body! Was that some kind of strange aftereffect from the other taking over? Whatever the reason, it had been stupid, and now she had to simply deal with the consequences.

Simply. As if missing a part of your body, and then not even treating it right, could that easily be ignored. Luckily—if you could call it that—Kirika had received similar wounds and knew how to go about handling the pain. Not that she hadn't been about to cry out from pain when she'd hugged her father, but when nobody touched the wound, she could almost ignore it.

The pain. Even now she shuddered at the memories of when the other had been in control of her body. The small hints she had received whenever she lost control had been manifested in what was undoubtedly the greatest threat to her continued existence. A freak of nature who was only interested in surviving if that meant she'd be able to hurt more people later. And that was not the right attitude when it came to living a long life.

Well, as long a life as someone in her business could possibly live, especially when the competition was after her as well. For a moment she broke her thoughts to take a sip of her sour energy drink—the glucose it contained was far too important for her body right now. Anyway, she really had to find a way to deal permanently with those Teraka people, that situation just couldn't keep going on like it was now. Sooner or later people she cared about might get hurt. They might not want to try to go after her in Sunnydale, at least that was the reason she had figured for their actions in LA, but she didn't intend to stay there all the time.

The one thing the Dawn personality had been looking forward to about her job was the traveling it involved. And her weaker version really wanted to visit Paris sometime soon as well. Not that there weren't a couple of places she would like to see, who knew? Maybe the Manor existed in this world as well. But that was all still in the future, right now there were a couple of other things that required her immediate attention.

The first place on that list was still occupied by those strange dreams she was having, they were really starting to bug her, and she wanted a way to get rid of them. New on second place—god, she sounded like some kind of DJ—was to find a way to deal with the Terakans. Not letting anyone learn about what she was had therefore been reduced to third place, but was still important. And in some instances was actually more important than the other two.

Of course, at the moment the third one was rather difficult to maintain with that gaping hole in her body, but at least it was vacation. Going to PE would kinda blow her cover. 'Hey Dawn, how come you're not changing?' would most likely be the question her friends would ask. And she couldn't exactly reply 'well, you know how it is, I don't really want you to see how I've been shot and all'. Oh yes, vacation was perfect right now. And with a little luck the wound would be healed enough in two weeks so that she no longer needed to be swathed in bandages.

At least one of her problems had been solved in her trip to LA, well two if you counted the gun. But the briefcase lying next to her had done its best in getting rid of her financial problems. Taking the money that was meant as payment for the distraction that gang of incompetents had provided was as close to poetic justice as she could come. Distraction, nobody had actually come out to say it, but she knew that was what it had been.

When there had been only one of the goons left she had interrogated him, not as harshly as the other had done, but that hadn't been necessary either. That was how she'd found out about the money and the connection the Gilded Rings had to the Terakan's. Not that she shouldn't have seen that coming either. With a name like that you weren't exactly trying to hide your identity.

Unfortunately that was where the useful information had stopped; he hadn't known anything about what that connection actually entailed. Which meant that he had only one other use, and she'd set him to work collecting the bodies of his deceased friends. Once all the evidence had been collected in one place she'd then ordered him to splash everything with gasoline, after which she'd killed him. After all, he had been a part of that distraction too.

A distraction meant to turn her attention away from the real danger, and she had allowed that incompetent psychopath to fall for it. Had she been able to she would have burned that fool along with all the evidence. Alas, she was burdened with it for the rest of her life. Or would a partial exorcism be possible? The only one who cared about the other was the other herself, and well... Who cared about the wants and needs of something like that?

It wasn't like she was going to be allowed to come out ever again anyway. Even the Dawn personality was better than that. Thinking of whom. She checked the original owner of her body to see if she had recovered a little by now. But no, she was still all turned into herself in an attempt to hide the truth of the atrocities her body had committed. That wasn't good, she really needed Dawn. Since she was so different she often had a completely different view on things, and people knew her opinions about those things. If she didn't get the required coaching people might figure out something was going on.

That was another thing she could blame on the other, completely destroying the innocence of a little girl. But maybe the whole Christmas thing would get her out of that funk; she didn't really see the purpose of it herself, but if people thought it important, who was she to complain?

Back to the money though, what was she going to do with that? She had already spent some of it on clothes, and she was pretty sure that more would be devoted to that, as wearing quality clothing was always useful. Assassinations were after all murder on ones clothes. But the rest of the money...

Well, she didn't really need anymore weapons and people—especially her mother—might notice if she suddenly had so much money to spend. So she probably should keep it somewhere in her room until she could use it to buy some useful stuff. Maybe a laptop or something? She missed the connection to potential clients that the internet represented, but, unless she'd be able to hide it somehow, that brought back the problem of being found out.

No, for now she just had to go on and pretend to be the little innocent schoolgirl people believed her to be. No spending of large amounts of money, or doing other things that might ruin her cover. And maybe the Dawn personality would return soon enough to stop her from ruining this cover. Emotions were needed in certain situations, but the weaker her might have to take care of those instances for a while. Great, there was a lot of staring out of windows coming up.

Looking away from the window she promised herself that she wouldn't start that habit right now, her weaker side might like it but she had better things to do. Why couldn't Dawn just stop blathering? Sure, it hadn't been nice and she wasn't exactly happy about what happened either, but she didn't go around forcing other personalities to work with their second choices, did she?

Oh well, she just had to resign herself to that behavior, and maybe Dawn would be able to come back to herself in Sunnydale. After all, despite the whole vampire thing it was a fairly calm town. For a moment she wondered if anything could have happened while she was gone, or at least anything that might be important to her, but she dismissed it. She had been gone for only a couple of days; surely nothing of any significance could have happened in those days?

XXX

"Hey." The timid sound came from the entrance to her room, and Jane turned to find her friend standing there.

"Sara." When had she arrived? Her friend had been away the day before and she hadn't been back this morning. Obviously she had returned now though. And once she heard about what happened she had probably come as fast here as she could. "Come in."

Still her friend hesitated, so she had to repeat her words.

"I heard about what happened Sunday."

Really? What a surprise, she couldn't deal with her friends treating her as someone fragile too. They at least should be treating her like they always had. "Yeah, I kinda figured you had."

Sara furrowed her brow at that, obviously that hadn't been what she'd expected. "Are you okay?"

"Not really, but I will be."

"You don't really act as if you've just..." her friend trailed off, clearly having no idea how to deal with this. Not that she could blame her for that, even she didn't really know what her reaction to something would be from one moment to the next.

"I'm trying to deal with it, it's kinda hard though. So I'd appreciate it if you didn't try to treat me as if I'm about to break."

"Okay, if that's what you want," Sara said. "Is it true that you were saved by Dawn's Xander though?"

She snorted at that. Yeah, Dawn's Xander. "It was Xander yes, but close the door and come here. I gotta show you something."

Quizzically Sara did as she asked, and after they were sitting side-by-side on her bed she showed her friend the book she had brought from the library. "What's that?"

"_VAMPYR._"

"Yeah, I can actually read the title y'know." It didn't come out as easy as it would've the day before, but at least her friend was trying. "What I meant to ask is; what do you want with it?"

"Information."

"Great, and are you gonna tell me what about?"

"I thought you could read the title?" Okay, her joke wasn't really good either but it was so hard to act as if nothing had happened. She wanted to get over it but it wasn't really working and by now she could feel the tears pricking in her eyes.

Sara obviously noticed it too. "Jane?"

"I'm scared Sara," Jane wailed before breaking down and crying into her friend's shoulder. It was way too early to be able to act normally, that could wait until later. She didn't like having to bother her friend like this, but she needed the comfort she could get from her.

"Hey, it's alright. You're safe now, remember?" Same words, different person, and in her mind she couldn't prevent the same answer from popping up either. 'No, I'm not Sara. And once you've heard what I know you'll agree with me'.

. . . .

A lot of crying, comforting, and other silly things later, Jane had enough of her weak behavior. She didn't do silly things like that; she was a capable young woman and more than able to deal with the realities of the world. Well, it was kinda obvious that was only true when those realities stayed the same. But she was learning to come to terms with that as well, and she needed to tell Sara about it.

"Okay," she sniffed, "enough of this nonsense. Let's talk about what's really going on in this town."

"What are you talking about?"

"I took this book," she patted the tome resting in her lap, "because it was the most complete of those I found in the library. It's more of a starters book though, kinda like vampires for dummies or something."

"Ehm, Jane? Vampires?" Sara looked as if she was staring at a crazy person, and unfortunately she couldn't really blame her friend.

"Yeah, no matter what I told mom and dad, it wasn't a couple of muggers that caught me last night. They were vampires, intending to drink my blood."

"You do realize how ridiculous that sounds right? Is this a way for you to deal with it or something?"

"No! I'm serious here. They really were vampires, Xander didn't scare them off, he staked them."

"Ri-i-i-ght, and then Superman came by as well?"

She slapped her friend at that, a resounding clap that shocked them both. But she was the first to break the silence. "Oh my god, I'm sorry."

Sara rubbed her cheek in an attempt to lessen the sting, but didn't look happy about it. "Okay, I'll just call that the stress talking, but please don't do that again."

"I didn't mean to, it's just with everything that happened, and now you don't even believe me."

Her friend sighed at that. "Jane, you're my best friend, and we've known each other for what? Practically all our lives, right?"

"Yes."

"But you've never, ever, tried to tell me something as silly as the fact that you believe in vampires. You always have reasons why things couldn't happen, even when we watch a movie you can't keep silent about how ridiculous some of those things are. So why would there suddenly be a bunch of walking corpses that like to drink blood?"

"I don't know!" That was the frustrating part about it all. The part that almost convinced her she had been wrong about it. That maybe vampires didn't exist after all.

"Then why do you believe in them?" Sara wanted to know, talking in a calmer voice, probably trying to be the voice of reason for once.

"Because they were about to suck my blood." She felt like crying again, why couldn't her friend believe her? Had their roles been reversed, she would- No, she wouldn't have believed a claim like that either.

For a moment both were silent, before with a sigh of desperation Sara spoke up. "Alright, I know you wouldn't lie to me. Tell me what you found and I'll think about it, not," she hastened to add, "that I'll believe it until I see some proof, but I don't just want to think you're lying either."

"I really hope you'll never believe me then. But let's start with what happened to me last night." And Jane started recounting her adventure of the night before, trying not to forget anything, and even included her suspicions about Dawn.

"You mean she knows, but didn't tell us? She wouldn't do that, would she? I can't believe that," Sara said after she had finished, not believing the bit about their friend.

"I'm having some trouble with that myself, but it would make sense with how she's changed and everything. And there's only one reason that I can come up with that I'd accept as a good excuse."

"What's that?" Sara wanted to know.

"She's protecting us."

That seemed to confuse her friend. "Protect us? How, I mean if we don't know what's really going on, wouldn't we be in greater danger?"

The very same argument she had considered up until that moment she had discovered something in the book she was now holding. "That's what I thought, but what if she's far more involved with all this than we think?"

"How do you mean?"

Jane opened the book to a certain page she had bookmarked earlier in the day. "What if she doesn't sleep well because she's out hunting all night? Here read this." Handing the book to Sara she waited patiently until her friend had finished.

"Wow. And you think Dawn?"

"It makes sense doesn't it? If vampires are real, that must be true too. And it would explain everything, the strange way she acts, why she didn't tell us, the sleeping thing, even how she suddenly knows how to fight."

"Yeah, and it probably happened around Halloween."

"Right, so we're agreed?"

A cautious nod from her friend proved that she was at least open to the possibility that there might be more to the world. "Yeah, so what are we gonna do?"

"For now, nothing. I'd much rather Dawn told us about being this Slayer herself, and then we can start helping her."

-------------

Post-fic comments: Okay people, last chapter of this story. Ergo, it is finished, over, there will be no more. At least until the next story, which will be called Unforeseen Consequences: Revelations. Yes, that will be a little similar to the Harry Potter cross. Except of course that it isn't a Harry Potter cross, and there will also be a plot while Dawn's awake. However, with this story finished I have to tell you a terrible secret. This is your last chance to review it!

Now that the over the top request for feedback has ended, I'll answer the questions/comments from those of you who have already made use of that possibility to influence the storyline.

BF110C4: Thanks, I'm rather happy it got over so well. And I have to agree that the R version wasn't that bad, but like you I'm not to sure about what's allowed and what isn't. It was the original version of chapter 4, and I only toned the graphical part down a bit. As I normally write at approximately PG-13 level, that's basically what it is. With the exception of course that the other (or Butcher as you called her) got out to play a bit, making the whole thing a bit more bloody than this site might accept. Anyway, I hope you liked this part as well.

The Unicorn: Thanks for the comments. Although I have to admit I'm not really sure about their validity. I stated that she was able to handle the recoil by now, and while it might have been cut out of this version, practically every shot she took was a headshot. Of course, if I didn't mention it, that might not be very obvious. So sorry about that. Replacing the magazine, well it was a scene change and I don't write every little detail all the time. Things like that get mentioned once or twice in a story, the rest of the time I figure people will understand that sort of thing takes place.

And then we come to the loading rounds thing. It took me a while, but I finally understand what you're talking about. :-) But like with making the entire bullets, that just isn't something she's capable of doing right now. It is an idea for the future though, so thanks for explaining it to me.

Kiki: I'm glad you like it. I have to tell you though, that the chances of your favorite pairing appearing anywhere in this series are, well as you should never say never I'll just say that the chances are as close to zero as you can come without actually reaching it. It just isn't something that works for me in the normal Buffyverse, and here? Well, let's just say that if this Dawn first discovered the chipped Spike, he wouldn't have to worry about the chip any longer. That said, I'm still glad you're enjoying the series.

Allen Pitt: The order doesn't necessarily always comes in threes. At least, that's what I understand. This is what Giles said about them in What's my line part 1. "You can kill as many of them as you like, it won't make any difference. Where there's one, there will be another, and another. They won't stop coming until the job is done."

Of course, that also means that she isn't finished with them yet. But I think you already understood that from reading this chapter.

Why don't they hire Dawn? Well, besides the fact that it wouldn't be as much fun to write or read? The assassins they sent to Sunnydale had all been killed, and they should have been able to deal with a single Slayer. The only thing they heard about what didn't make any sense was the professional that had suddenly appeared there as well, e.g. Dawn. So they figure she took them out. Which doesn't make them very happy. Which causes them to want to kill her.

Kirika did become more emotional at the end, but that was Mireille's Kirika, if you can call her that. And that one isn't in charge of the body right now.

This might be a good place to explain how the whole "who's in charge" thing works, so listen carefully people. Or read carefully if you want to be like that.

Dawn is the one personality who can at any time take control of her body. Simply because it's hers, she might loose that control sometimes, or even surrender it, but she can take it back any time.

The other three however aren't that powerful. Both versions of Kirika and the other are weaker and can only take control when there is nobody in control. They too can hand over control to one specific personality, but once given can't take it back.

Since Dawn surrendered control at the end of Dark, Darker,... the other three more or less fought for it. Or at least, two of them fought. The gentler Kirika never really was one to take control if it wasn't really required. If something came up that she believed she was better able to handle, she would try to take it, but she didn't have that option anyway.

Okay, this might look like it conflicts with the scene in chapter one where she allowed all personalities to come forward for a moment. But Kirika never gave up control there, she just allowed their characteristics to show. And yes, once Dawn has everything integrated, she'll be dangerous. Of course, that might take a while yet.

Well, I hope that's clear to all of you. Now on to the next comment. The timeline thing for the UC stories. Yes, there are possibilities. In fact I've been thinking about putting her somewhere around 2115 or so in Julian May's Milieu Trilogy books. They have the medical abilities to extend her life that long, and it would be interesting to see how she looks upon a perfect world like that.

I'll think about other worlds though, some or possible, but others not. The chances of her ending up in Firefly are rather slim though, as I've never really seen the show. But thanks for pointing the options out, I have to admit I hadn't thought of them. On the other hand, a vamped Dawn? With all those abilities? That just plain gives me the creeps to even think about.

Geez, I thought I was finished but you put even more in it. Okay, grenades. I'll add it to the list of possibilities, although I'm not sure how useful they'll be in most situations so I don't know if she'll buy them.

Okay, if you've read through all that. Congratulations, I'm impressed. If you'd like to have a reply like that... Sorry, couldn't help myself there. Once again thanks to everyone for reading the story.


End file.
